Last Rest Denied for Moray
by Trynia Merin
Summary: AU MacbethxOC. Sequel to Past, Present, Future! MacBeth and his love must train a force to stop the Quarrymen and face Canmore's vengeance!
1. Future tense and tenser

Disclaimer: Buena Vista and Disney own the characters of Gargoyles, which are being used here without their knowledge or consent. The character of Mona, the alternate Demona, Aunt Maya Florez, are the ideas of Malkavien. Lucia Dominguez, Cesar Ramirez, Keith Polaski, Sharon Lewis, and Rachel Vitreum are my characters, as are the other minor ones not part of gargoyles. Lyrics taken from the song Gallows Pole written and composed by Jon Schaeffler and Hansi K?rsh performed by Demons & Wizards. Ricky Martin's Living the Vie de Loca, and Jennifer Lopez song If I gave you me also appear. This story rated PG-13 for strong language, violence, and some sexual content of a mild nature.

Last Rest Denied

Part 1: Future Returns 

* * *

Written by Trynia Merin 

Synopsis by malkavien@lft.be 

__

This story takes place about two after Past Returns, part 3, and a month after Claws of Shadows, and two months after 

What's Done is Done.

* * *

The Eerie Pyramid, Manhattan People's Republic, 2040AD: 

"WE were fools," Demona set the last charge, on the mainframe. "What fools we were..."

"No my love..." Brooklyn gritted, his wing drooping as he limped.

"But Delaware and Jersey..." Demona looked to him.

"Didn't die in vain..." Brooklyn gripped her arm. "When I tell you, get clear..."

For the hundredth time the alert screamed in their ears. Solid explosions sounded, and both of them inwardly rejoiced. "The main struts! Matt did it!" Demona laughed.

"I like the sound of that!" Brooklyn whispered, caressing his brow with hers. They allowed a small moment of victory.

"Let's move!" Demona whispered. She gripped the detonator, and both of them moved towards the door.

"Shit!" Brooklyn gasped, pulling her behind the mainframe. "Shock troops! Steel Clan!"

"But you said that Rachel..." Demona gasped.

"Rachel, what the hell is going on..." Brooklyn shouted into his com. Demona fired back, her gun blazing at the red rods that ripped through the Main center.

"Brooklyn... I'm sorry... but team Beta got hit... Findleagh... did what he could, but the Steel clan must have.... we nailed the Shock troops with the Virus I made... but it wasn't enough..."

"Get the hell back to the labyrinth!" Brooklyn gritted. 

"I'll try..." came Rachel's voice, over the volley of laserfire in the background. Demona gritted, flinging aside another carbine charge as she waited five seconds for her gun to recharge. Red lights sprang into life like a phoenix, and she fanned the oncoming line with a rain of death.

"Houston, Shenna..." came Rachel's anguished shriek.

"Rachel!" Brooklyn shouted. "Are you there..."

"Cannot... hold them... there are too many..." came Rachel's gasp. A death flower exploded beside Brooklyn's shoulder, as he tumbled out of the way. Growling, he sprayed the oncoming line with his own death storm.

"Get clear!" he hissed to Demona, holding the detonator. His red claw depressed the switch. Anxious seconds they darted, Demona covering their escape with her laser. Red rods singed Brooklyn's good wing.

"Three... two... one..." Brooklyn gritted, and yanked Demona clear as the counter ticked Zero in red letters. A shockwave molded itself to their backs, throwing both gargoyles into the next chamber. Small shrapnel tinkled down around them, the remains of the Steel clan assault force.

"Bingo!" Brooklyn laughed. Demona squirmed beside him, her hair filled with the little metal bits.

"Rachel, you hear that, we did it!" Demona laughed over her com. But all that met their ears was eerie silence.

"Rachel!" Brooklyn gritted. "Come in, dammit!"

"The link's been cut off..." Demona choked.

"Come on!" Brooklyn snarled, and pulled her along. Another death would have to wait till afterwards to mourn.

At last they reached the main nerve center, which had been Xanatos office years ago. Demona wondered at the signs of recent laser burns. "Someone's beat us to it," she wondered. Panels flickered spasmodically, sparking as their relays shorted out.

"We hit them good!" Brooklyn nodded. "Now, for that traitor..."

In unison they aimed their guns at the large gantritic steel door. It melted easily under their combined firepower like butter. Within the gloom, terminals sparked and spat, the chain reaction reaching them from the Mainframe.

"Lexington!" Brooklyn roared. "Show yourself coward!"

"There's no escape!" Demona snarled. Red eyes flared alongside white ones. Two huddled over figures leapt upon them, their cybernetics gleaming.

"I thought we finished Jackal and the Ultrapack!" Demona wailed.

"Wrong again, fools!" came a maniacal laugh. "You face my children... and they will not abandon

their father..."

Snarling he tossed the slight shape which raked his face with steel claws. It was a female, no older then Jersey had been. She rose, her large eyes blazing crimson, silver cybernetics gleaming on her wings. Demona kicked the male off her, his wings flapping as she Swiss-cheesed them with her maser. Sparks flew off the chest plate. Brooklyn turned to fire, his weapon cutting into the top of the female gargress' control unit. Blue sparks erupted into a pyrotechnic rain as she shrieked an inhuman howl. Demona leapt upon the male, claws ripping. She felt wires and steel give way under her claws, and hurled as the female reeled. They collapsed in a heap. Brooklyn limped over to his mate, leaning on her as he continued to growl, "Lexington! Enough games!"

"Fools, you have won nothing!" came the enhanced voice as two white eyes flared in the gloom, and a hover chair whirled around. His face darkened at the sight of the two hatchlings huddled to one side. An angry low growl came from his cybernetic voice box. 

"You would attack your own clan?" Demona cried. "What Gargoyle are you?"

"As you have killed two of the Rookery," Lexington retorted. His own cybernetics flared as a blue light fell upon Brooklyn and Demona. "And for that your death will be most unpleasant..."

"WE knocked out your Xanatos program. You're finished..."

"Not so," Lexington laughed. "Because even now my Last Chance program is running..."

"Last chance..." Demona gasped. "No..."

"If I cannot rule this world, then it doesn't deserve to exist..." Lexington laughed. "You've lost, Brooklyn!"

"Noo!" Demona screamed, throwing herself on Lexington. Just then a series of Steel clan clanked in, their guns raised. A shot crackled out, slamming into Brooklyn's back. Shot after shot slammed into him, and the red gargoyle crumpled.

"My love!" Demona howled, raking the steel clan with laserfire as she tossed Lexington aside. 

"Kiss your mate goodbye!" Lexington laughed, and punched a button on his chair com. Blue lightning exploded, snaking over the floor. Demona leapt onto the console desperately. Brooklyn writhed in the charge, all his muscles firing at once. The smell of burning flesh crept into her nostrils. When the flare subsided, his charred form drifted into dust beside that of Lex's children. Only their cybernetics remained in a gleaming pile.

"You... you..." Demona snarled, dropping on the floor near the ashes of her love.

"All alone now," Lex laughed. "Just you and me, immortal..."

"I will see you rot in hell!" she screamed.

"Where do you think you are," Lex sneered. Steel clan advanced on her from both sides, grabbing her in their tendrils. Protesting, she struggled, but an all too familiar pain shot through her.

"That's right. Turn to your human form while I dispose of you once and for all..." Lex laughed.

"But you will die too... if Last Chance..." she gritted.

"Fooled you," Lex laughed. They wrestled her to a strange unit, much like what she recalled from a series years ago, a large glass cylinder that she was thrust into. Demona howled, battering the sides.

"I need to test my new dimensional teleporter unit. What better way then to put it on you.... on the widest possible dispersion..."

"I cannot be killed..."

"Oh, but you can... if Macbeth dies at the same instant. And I doubt he'll survive what little surprise I've got for him..."

"No..." Demona gasped.

"Last Chance will only affect those outside of Manhattan," he laughed. "Soon everything outside a twelve-mile radius will be charred to cinders... and you won't be around to see it! Activate!"

"Noo!" Demona shouted, as the hand descended upon the switch. Seething energies enfolded her, as she felt her every cell ripping asunder. 

* * *

23rd Precinct House, 5:30PM: 

"Captain, I think there is something that you need to see," Elisa Maza said to Maria Chavez early that evening. The sun had only just set, and Chavez had just clocked in.

"Maza, this had better be good... I didn't exactly get my forty winks..." Chavez ran a hand through her hair, rubbing the sleep from her aching forehead.

"Well it will help answer what happened to a friend of yours..."

"What?" Maria snapped up. "Who are you talking about?"

"A certain geologist who taught you rock climbing..."

"What the hell... why didn't you tell me you had a lead!" Chavez exploded. "I hate being kept in suspense, Maza..."

"Easy Captain! If you'll just come up to the clock tower..."

"What does the clock tower have to do with this?"

"Everything..." Elisa said. "Let's just say there's some evidence there..."

"All right I'll play your game. But it had better not be a waste of time!" Chavez exhaled, her lip vibrating into a frustrated Bronx cheer. She let Elisa lead her down the hallway, to the poky little broom closet. All the way Chavez grumbled and tripped over paint buckets and construction equipment. Her high-heeled shoe caught on a dust rag and sent her toppling into Maza.

"Dammit, what has this got to do with anything! Is Rachel alive or dead?"

"Captain, remember how I always disappeared just after I clocked in?"

"Yes but..."

"This is where I used to go. To sneak out on a break. It wasn't just for donuts. And remember when I lugged that TV up here?"

"We all were wondering who that was for, and that old recliner that I threw into the dumpster..." Chavez snorted, knocking plaster dust off her hair. Elisa reached up, pulling down the utility hatch ladder. It was the only part still intact from the original construction.

"They could have put in a new ladder," Chavez bitched, clambering up after Elisa. "Stupid cutbacks!"

Already the last lights of radiant sunset had faded into dark blues. Chavez heard the clicking of gears magnified several dozen times as she scampered up behind Elisa. Behind that, could she hear voices?

"Is this some stupid welcome back prank?" Chavez finally muttered, as Elisa helped to pull her up by her suited arm.

"Surprise," Elisa laughed. Chavez blinked, then rubbed her eyes. The remains of a microwave and a television were being swept up, as well as plaster dust that had fallen. Yet who pushed the broom totally put her at a loss for words.

"Hi Captain Chavez," said a large blue gargoyle, his green wings caping. "Guess I finally get to meet the best captain on the force."

"Gargoyles... here?" Chavez stammered, and almost fell over if a female had not caught her.

"Ria?" asked a familiar voice. Again she stammered, backing away from the source. 

"Ray..." she stammered, and glanced into a pair of glasses. What was behind them floored her. She could swear she recalled the set of those eyes, and that smile framed by thick fudge colored locks. However, the blue skin, the horns, and the talons confused her recognition.

"Ria... I wanted to tell you... but we just couldn't think of a good way..."

"Holy Shit... what happened to you?" Chavez ran a hand through her hair. "How in the... Ray what happened?"

"I have two words for you," Elisa steadied her boss as Rachel reached a hand out to a bewildered Chavez. "Dr. Sevarious."

* * *

Meanwhile at Castle Wyvern: 

The hall was very quiet, in fact the whole castle seemed deserted. Grim silence marked a Calm and ominous foreboding. No gargoyles had crept down to this level, so near the labs. Out of the silence, energy crackled as the air become overload with static electricity, and seemed to wave as there was a heat source in the floor. A sharp pungent odor of ozone split the air. Slowly a disc of liquid silver spread beneath it, expanding evermore into a disc of light. Papers whispered slowly on the desktops, whipping into a quickening breeze. Stroboscopically lightening painted the room in an eerie blue flash. Air sighed and moaned, sucked into the vortex of the event horizon's circle, a handful of seconds before a form burst forth.

It hit the far wall with a meaty whamming noise, accompanied by a hurt grunt. The humanoid form fell onto the ground, convulsing. Quickly the silhouette stretched, long wings erupting from its back as a long tail sprouted from above her flanks. Fair complexion of her skin flushed to azure blue, underneath a river of blood seeping from a deep laceration in her forehead. 

Oddly the red tide abated to reveal the shapely crown of four tiny horns. All wounds that the new arrival seemed to had re-absorbed. There was no more deep cut on her forehead, no more fractured skull and no more hemorrhage in several part of her brain. Only the unconscious form of a beautiful unconscious lay gargoyle spread on the floor. Her burgundy mane lay askew of her face, her hand laying over the breastplate of her golden armor. Beside her lay a gold tiara.

* * *

The Clock Tower, 6 PM: 

Luckily Rachel was closest, or Chavez would have eaten the new plaster floor. Deftly the turquoise gargoyle caught her friend in strongly muscled arms. They were bare, smooth and strong as they wrapped around Chavez and steadied her. At arm length, Chavez forced herself to look into the wistful gargoyle countenance. It was Ray all right, there was no mistaking the set of the eyes, even though those graceful brows were now ridges. Or the firm chin just beginning to be creased with wrinkles. Chavez's fingers extended, then stopped short of touching one silky lock of hair. Her green eyes flushed with regret. "Well, I have to say this Dr. Sevarious does good work, dammit. If I didn't want to pulverize him I'd praise him!"

"It is me..." Rachel smiled sadly.

"No doubting that smile," Chavez chuckled sadly. "So, how the hell have you been? Are you... okay? I mean... what happened to this Sevarious bastard that..."

"Ria...." 

"I'm sorry lass, but we did our best," Hudson said gallantly. 

"She was like this when we found her," Brooklyn added. "Even if some of us didn't recognize her..."

"Laddie yer flapping on a dead air pocket," Hudson warned.

"Uh guys..." Broadway interrupted. "Does it matter now?"

"We didn't' find any trace of him," Elisa sighed. "Every lead is dry..."

"Dammit, you could have called me!" Maria shook Rachel, her throat choking. "I didn't know if you'd still..."

"I'm a cop, Ray. I've seen serious Shit in my life. Didn't you think I'd understand?"

"I'm sorry..." Rachel lowered her eyes.

"Come here you," she said, folding Rachel into her arms. To everyone's surprise Maria Chavez gave Rachel a gentle kiss on both cheeks.

"Och, she knows everyone!" Hudson suddenly commented, resting hands on his hips. The rest of the clan leapt off the high walls to land beside the startled Chavez.

"How many are there of you?" Chavez backed away, still holding Rachel's arms.

"Not many," Rachel shook her head.

"Captain!" Elisa looked at her oddly. "What was that about?"

"Why, Elisa, I'm a life outside my office, and my own secrets!" Chavez grinned, pecking Elisa on the cheek as she turned to Rachel.

"This is my Clan..." Rachel indicated the others. "Hudson, Brooklyn... and all the others at Castle Wyvern..."

"Son of a bitch," Chavez shook her head, muttering half to herself in Spanish, a Puerto Rican dialect. "I don't know whether to be pissed at you Elisa for hiding this from me, or grateful to you for leading me to Ray. But why now..."

"We wanted to show her where we used to live..." Brooklyn, the red gargoyle with a rather attractive beak commented. 

"Used... to live?" Chavez glanced questioningly at Elisa.

"Yeah. This place was their protectorate..."

"I don't believe it! On top of the police station all the time...Maza, what were you thinking?"

"Does it matter now?" Rachel asked, hugging Chavez tightly.

"No," she sighed. "Damn I can't believe we were so blind not to see this. No wonder that Hunter attacked..."

"That's another thing," Elisa said. "Is Robyn..."

"Gal's still got six month's probation... Matt's on the case..."

"Is that a good idea?" Elisa asked.

'Why?"

"He's... kinda gotten personally involved," Elisa said.

"Oh great, anything else you haven't told me, Maza?" Chavez put her hands on her hips.

"Ria," Rachel tugged her sleeve. "Calm down... you don't want to blow a blood vessel…"

Just then the odd bleeping of something on Rachel's belt split the conversation. Sheepishly she said, "Excuse me... communication coming in..."

She hit the button to a small pack on her belt that looked like a pocket pager. In reality it was a Transgalactic communicator she had adapted for use on earth. "Yes, Goliath? Rachel here... yes... she's here... but what..."

Discreetly Chavez pulled Elisa aside to talk to her, so Rachel could have some privacy. She put her finger in one ear as she began to talk aloud to the air. 

"So how personally involved is Matt?" Chavez asked, the shock of seeing the Gargoyles temporarily suspended.

"Uh, he had said she loves volunteering at the community center with the PIT crew, Captain Chavez, and he was really grateful when she told him about who Castaway got his latest arms from..." Broadway put in, which earned him a stern look from Hudson and Brooklyn. 

"How grateful?" asked Chavez.

"Uh... a bouquet of flowers and two tickets to Madam Butterfly?" he shrugged.

"Terrific," Chavez scraped her shoe against the stone floor annoyedly. "If it wasn't the fact she was a good source of info on her brother's old contacts..."

"But wouldn't Castaway know this by now and somehow changed his plans?" Broadway scratched his head. "I bet the fences have already shifted now that he knows the heat's on..."

"Fences," Chavez laughed. "How many cop shows have you seen, Mr..."

"Broadway," he said proudly. "I helped Elisa on one of her cases... the Dracon one a few years back..."

"He was my partner... when Matt was captured," Elisa explained.

"A gargoyle private eye?" Chavez shook her head. "Oh boy just what I need now..."

"Uh guys, I think we had better get back... Goliath has something he needs us to take care of back at the castle, pronto!" said Rachel, with an apologetic look to Chavez.

"Leaving so soon, now that we've met?" Chavez frowned.

"No disrespect indented, lass," Hudson nodded to her. "But we must be going... our leader will be wantin t' speak... and Goliath doesna tolerate tardiness..."

"Goliath?" Chavez shot a glance to Elisa. "Is that your boyfriend, Maza?"

"Yes," Elisa blushed.

"You tell him the next time he pulls a stunt like this... I want to see him face to face!" Chavez snapped. "He should have told me that my friend was a gargoyle!"

"But Captain..."

"See you on shift... which starts in four minutes, Maza," Chavez said. Then she turned to the other gargoyles. 

"Sorry to meet you on such short notice," Broadway apologized.

"Don't think anything about it. I'm just glad you guys are on our side. No don't keep your leader waiting..."

* * *

Macbeth's Mansion, Long Island, NY, 2040 AD: 

Lucia saw the distant lights, her ears burning with the sound of what seemed like whistling. Red flashes flickered over her creme colored battle armor, panting its contours in red light. Silvery curls slipped out of her barrette, hanging around her pleasantly lined face. However, the look upon it was far from pleasant.

Macbeth rushed to her side, his arm slipping around her shoulders.

"It's over... isn't it... everyone..." she turned to him. 

"Last Chance," Macbeth whispered. "Demona... warned us... just in time..."

"Findleagh..." she sobbed, forcing back tears for their son. He would never know the pleasure of marriage or children of his own.

"Died bravely as befitting a warrior..." Macbeth gripped her shoulders. "And the son of a king..."

"Like Keith... and Sharon..." she stammered. "Luach..."

"Rachel," Macbeth glared through the French windows. He gripped the remote control in his hand, punching buttons. Lucia rushed to the security terminal, hands flying over the securecam banks. An eerie howling boomed, and they knew they only had seconds to act before Last Chance went into operation.

"Targeting telemetry..." she whispered.

"Arming main cannons and defensive shield," Macbeth nodded, giving a cursory glance out into the courtyard. His laser cannons swiveled to punch their red rods into the oncoming disastrous dawn. He fought the cramping pains in his chest as Demona's transformation hit him. As ever, Lucia gripped him close, as he howled the pain.

"She's still alive if you are here," she whispered.

"Never mind me... get on the targeting computer... make sure we draw a bead..." Macbeth whispered, face still contorted in pain. Lucia's lined face lit up under the winking lights. So many objects pinged on the Doppler radar. A volley of rockets sprang up from the four turrets in the courtyard, sailing skywards. Within seconds the light was lit with a series of blue and white flashes, which eclipsed the rising sun in magnesium strobescence.

Macbeth nodded, moving to his wife's side as she checked the perimeter. "We got them!" she laughed, whirling to face him. HE gripped her close, kissing her gently. The field was clear. Or was it? His eyes narrowed at the sudden ping approaching.

"We missed one..." she gasped, glancing up at him.

"Activate the shield!" he shouted. Her hands typed over the codes, initializing the generators. They smelled the ozone as a bluish light domed up around the Mansion. Already the refugees stirred, and children's faces pressed to the French windows as the eyes stared skywards. Over the shimmering of the force shield, the death flowers exploded. Stone gargoyles fused into place, as the remainders of the Clan froze into place under the full sunlight. Samson, his siblings,

Midnight, Delilah, and Broadway all fused to place amidst the panicked onlookers. Mute and Claw huddled together, as Claw clenched his arms around the stone statue that was his own heart's silent love.

Then the ground itself seemed to shake. A huge mushroom cloud rose through the widows, and Lucia gripped her husband's black gloved hand tightly. Screams and shouts echoed in the Mansion.

"Lennox," she whispered, glancing at him as he looked over her shoulder at the monitors.

"Manhattan was undamaged... but New York... New Jersey..." he gasped. A look of horror filled their faces.

"Shield's holding, but barely. It must be four hundred degrees," she gasped, as the bluish energy held back a wall of flame. A red disastrous inferno flickered through the windows of the Manor. A loud roar, the ground trembling under their feet, punctuated it. Suddenly there was an explosion that vibrated the whole Mansion.

"God no!" Lucia gasped. "The generator!"

Screams and panic filled their ears as the shield faltered. Red flames licked closer and closer as the thermonuclear shockwave spawned fire licked closer and closer. It would only be a matter of seconds before the Manor was fully consumed.

"_Macbeth!_" she screamed, as she saw the windows blow inwards. He shoved her under the shelter of the couch as the glass ripped into the line of refugees. They rolled on the floor together, as he shielded her with his body. One by one the statues exploded in the heat. Both watched with horror.

"Lucia!" he shouted, gripping her close. It was hot, so hot. Hell exploded around them, and he could see the flames licking over each and every piece of furniture. They scrambled at the falling timber, which crashed down around them. Painstakingly crawling towards the entrance to the basement. Only their respective battle armors yielded them any insulation from the scalding heat now.

"It's all over..." she sobbed, as they climbed into blackness. "It won't be long before the whole place goes..."

"Aye," he whispered, and pulled her close to him in the dark space, which had suddenly gone hot. He pulled her face into view of his, blue gray eyes fixing into her frightened dark ones.

"We tried so hard... was it all for nothing?" she asked him, her leather gloved hands in his. 

"No," he shook his head, hands gripping painfully tight. "Never say that. As long as we have fought the guid fight..."

"In the cause of freedom," she nodded. "It is a good death... isn't it my husband?"

"Remember, I will always love you..." he choked through the smoke clogged air.

"Macbeth... I have... no regrets," she whispered, as he hugged her close in his arms, slowly rocking her. Armor against armor made little difference in the scalding heat.

"Nor do I, my dearest love," he whispered. Even the basement around them slowly yielded to the flame, Lucia and Macbeth retreating towards the back corner. Once before he remembered his castle in flames, ten centuries ago. That time he had rushed out, saving his wife from a death by fire. Now, there was no place to run. They would perish... even he, who was immortal, for he doubted enough would remain to be reborn. His entire existence would blissfully come to an end, at last.

"Hold me," she whispered, glancing up into his face. He held her close to his armored body as he pressed kisses to her face. The world had blazed into an inferno, but those blue eyes held a refreshing peace. Already flame had crept onto his coat, and he battered it off. Her skirt caught fire, licking slowly upwards. Macbeth's lips clamped over hers in a last frenzied kiss as he pulled his lightening gun from his holster. A white blaze consumed them both seconds before the flames did.

* * *

Castle Wyvern 6PM: 

"Someone's breached security on level two," one security guard muttered to his partner. 

"Come on... let's see if they forgot to clean the rat traps this time..." the blonde sighed, picking up her taser. Both reluctantly dragged themselves from hot coffee and donuts before a security monitor.

The man was glad for some action, yet his blonde partner was annoyed at being taken from her java. Sighing, she slid the security card through the access pad.

"Weird, nobody came through here..." she muttered.

"Then how the hell did they..."

"Shh," she hissed. The door whirred open, to a dark space. On the floor lay a dark shape, covered in gleaming gilt.

"Shit! How did that gargoyle get in here?" he snapped.

"Who cares. Let's get her to the infirmary. I'll love to see the look on Xanatos face when he..."

"Wait... don't you recognize her?" he asked, stopping his partner. "That's that... female who attacked..."

"Quick, get the tranq..." she said.

"Wait, let's just kill her..."

"No you idiot! If Xanatos knew we had her, he would flip if she were killed! I bet he'll be thrilled to get his hands on the saboteur!"

Together they clamped cuffs on her wrists, and took her form between them. She was heavy; yet manageable. He stopped to pick up the gold tiara, turning it over in his hand.

"Stop futzing around and give me a hand, you dumb ass," she gritted.

* * *

Somewhere over Queens, 6:15 PM:

"You're gliding is getting better," Brooklyn nodded to Rachel, who just about managed to keep pace with the other two. Angela and Broadway swept around them, flitting on a convenient thermal.

"Let's take a closer look," Angela flicked her flanks and dove. Shrugging, Broadway and Brooklyn pulled in after her. Rachel moaned and tried to copy their actions.

"Careful, we're coming into a tricky patch here..." Broadway called, as they swooped over the elevated train that separated Queens from Manhattan. A train rocketed by, slicing into the still air with a river of wind. Rachel's wings blew back as she rose up on the updraft.

"Watch it!" Brooklyn cried, struggling to anticipate where she was going to land.

Rachel reached at her waist as she felt dead stillness under her back. There was no updraft, and with her tail side down she was plummeting like a stone. Broadway and Angela gasped as Brooklyn swung round to try and break her fall.

Something shot from under Rachel's wrist, clinking into the nearest high building. A thin cable jerked, arresting her fall. Safely it drew off enough so that she could land against its side.

"Whoa, don't scare us like that!" Brooklyn alighted near her. Within minutes she had scaled the wall, leaving him behind.

"I'm coping the best way I can," she shrugged.

"Are you okay?" asked Angela and Broadway, who had alighted on the rooftop. "You scared the heck outta us..."

"Nothing a little rope and pitons couldn't handle," she said. "First rule of climbing, always have a safety line..."

"But how did you throw it in time?"

"Carbon dioxide propellants in the tip of the piton doesn't hurt either," she said.

Brooklyn huffed as he finally scrabbled up, five minutes later. "Damn, you climb like Spiderwoman! Sheesh!"

"Nothing here," Angela laughed. "But one disgruntled hero..."

"Thanks for the attempted save," Rachel smiled, tweaking Brooklyn's beak. 

"No damsels in distress, eh, big hero?" Broadway nudged him in the elbow.

Brooklyn muttered something very unflattering under his breath, and watched the young couple clasp claws.

"Better get back now," Angela said. "Father will be worried..."

So saying they all leapt off the building, one after the other as they headed Wyvernwards. Rachel hooked her rope to Brooklyn, soaring after him like a kite.

A sword flashed in the night, as Hudson dove from the light of the full moon towards them. Rachel was cut loose with a shriek, her wings billowing out in the night air. 

"Hudson what the hell are you doing?" Brooklyn snapped at him, all set to dive after Rachel. For a minute she floundered, and tumbled before she finally righted herself and climbed slowly.

The grizzled warrior swept up under Rachel, gripping her under the arms and knees. "And what have we here... a kite or a gargoyle lass?"

"Hudson you stinker!" Rachel chided, as he bore her back to Wyvern. "What was that about?"

"Ye must learn t' fly on yer ain, lass," he chuckled.

"And how can I if you're carrying me like a wee bairn?" she imitated a thick Highlander accent that stunned him.

Rachel planted a smacking smooch on Hudson. Gurgling he almost crashed into the tower as he overshot.

"Ach!" he grunted, as she pulled away. At the last minute he righted himself, landing heavily beside the other gargoyles that had arrived.

"Gotta watch where you're going, Hudson," Rachel grinned, and he set her down carefully.

"I have a pot of stew with our names on it Angela," Broadway laughed as he quickly rushed into the castle. 

Goliath's stern form watched them land, and he said, "Good you are here! Something very strange has happened..."

Rachel suddenly had the oddest look on her face. Hudson turned to her with concern, saying, "Lass, are ye all right?"

"Ow..." Rachel winced, holding her head. "It... the pain... something's... not right..."

"Rachel... I require your experience, with time travel..."

"Goliath, what is going on?" asked Brooklyn.

"Xanatos summoned me when someone was caught breaking into the computer area. I tried to investigate... but I can't explain it..."

"Can't explain what?" Brooklyn asked. Angela and Broadway had already disappeared off to the kitchen together. Lex and Delilah were most likely teaching Silence her latest reading lesson.

"This way, my friends... I am at a loss as to how to proceed in this matter..."

* * *

Castle Wyvern Medical Unit, a few minutes later: 

Goliath glanced into the glass, and nearly scratched his way through in frustration. "You see the quandary," he indicated. 

"How did she get into here?" Angela gasped.

"Demona!" Brooklyn snarled, about ready to burst into the room and rip her throat out.

"Stop it!" Rachel grabbed him. "She's already unconscious!"

"Wait... do not be hasty. See that her appearance is different from what you know..." Goliath suddenly said, noticing that as two technicians removed a golden armor from around her body.

"We also found this weapon with her, which Owen claims to have no record of manufacture for," Goliath handed to Brooklyn and Rachel. 

"It's... almost like something that belongs in Star Trek..." Brooklyn muttered.

"Next Generation or Classic Trek?" Hudson asked.

Rachel's eyes narrowed as she beheld the weapon. "Wait... that's 21st century technology!" the former Time Lady pointed out.

"How do you know?" Brooklyn wondered.

"Please," Rachel rolled her eyes behind her glasses at Brooklyn. "I spent a considerable time with the Doctor in your world's future. I even worked on a colony mining ship where this would be considered an antique!"

"Okay, okay!" Brooklyn held up his talons in defeat. "But that doesn't explain what she is doing here!"

"Why don't we ask her when she wakes up?" asked Rachel matter of fact.

"Father... what is on your mind?" Angela asked, as Goliath continued to stare at the prostrate form in the hospital bed.

"That looks just like the Demona from my dream," he stammered. "The one when I passed out on the Skiff, and thought I had rid myself of the Gate..."

"Oh wait a minute... how on Earth?" Angela asked. 

"Puck never was clear on that," Goliath said ominously. "I asked him once if it would come true. He answered, Like I'd tell you!"

"Sounds like Puck to me," Brooklyn muttered. "Never a straight answer..."

"Sounds as if Puck folded time... and could have astral projected you into that continuum," Rachel scratched her chin. "Or the it was the dimension Puck used as reference."

"Excuse me?" Goliath asked.

"Fae have the power to bend space and time. The Time Lords recognize this. Oberon is considered a fair manipulator, one of the few authorized on your world to do so...."

"Wait a minute!" Hudson said. "Ye mean t' say Goliath did go into the future?"

"It wasn't a dream?" Goliath asked.

"Apparently not," Rachel folded her arms. "And this Demona is from that alternate reality..."

"Can't we send her back?" Brooklyn asked.

"No!" Angela and Hudson explained at the same time

"Unfortunately that continuum ceased to exist long ago.. proportionally speaking," Rachel said. "In that continuum, or dream or whatever it is...was.. she has been killed. And this Demona might be a good influence on the one from this time and space."

Lex suddenly came up, with Angela. They gasped when they beheld the figure behind glass.

"What the hell..." Lex got out.

"It's Demona..." Angela said. "But how did she get here Father?"

"She's possibly an alternate," Rachel said.

"Excuse me?" Lex asked.

"We don't know for certain," Goliath said, still cautious.

"According she wakes up." Lexington points out.

* * *

Castle Wyvern, Medial Suite, 8PM: 

A pair of red eyes glanced at the glass. Silence had heard the talk of daddy and mommy. Something about Demona. She had to see for herself if it was true. Despite all that happened, she remembered the Blue gargoyle that had so fondly held her. Before the darkness and shrieks. She had not been there for that... before Momma had whisked her away. 

Very carefully she waited, scuttling through as the technician left the door swinging shut behind him. She could move very fast when she wanted. On tiptoes the silver gargress child approached, her claw held out. How peaceful the Blue Gargoyle looked, the one who had made her...

Ever so carefully she reached a talon out to touch her face. That gentle caress brought about a moaning and a stirring. Eyes blinked open, registering the new room in a panic.

"**LEXINGTON!!! XANATOS!!!**" Demona screamed. Silence backed away in fear. That wild look of fear and terror burned, Demona's arms and legs flailing at the nylon restraints, enforced with steel. 

"My daughter! My love!" she screamed. Abruptly the scream died in her throat as her eyes registered the room more clearly. 

"I... am alive!" she breathed, her heart pounding to a standstill in her chest. "how..."

Her head flickered towards the black restraints that held her wrists tightly. Just enough she could move a bit, but not enough to let her sit up. Wires pressed to her chest, which was garbed in a strange soft cloth. Where was her armor? Why did everything look so... old? Glancing around yet again she noticed the trembling form which retreated towards the door.

"Mute... is that you..." she asked, her eyes falling into wide pink ones. "Little one... do not fear. I mean no harm... come here so I can see you..."

Terrified, Silence vanished in a flash of silver and copper wings. How young she looked! 

"What... is this..." Demona moaned. "Another... dream?"

Sleep claimed her, and she welcomed its peaceful embrace. A second oblivion from which anything was possible.

Later she was aware of a presence, staring at her watchfully. Head writhing, Demona blinked again. Her eyes widened at a lavender blur sitting close beside the bed. 

"Goliath..." she gasped, her head reeling. How had he survived?

"Goliath, it's good to see you alive. But how did you escape Coyote? Angela said that she saw you die!"

"Not exactly..." he coughed. "And you were not destroyed. But I must warn you, there are many questions... and that is why you must be restrained..."

"I... understand," she sighed, that look in her eyes seeming very much unlike the Demona he had come to know in this reality. Was it really she, the war weary Demona from his delusion?

"If you are, then why were you not destroyed in Cyberspace?"

"It... was a simulation. Findleagh... pulled us out in time, downloading Brooklyn and me as Xanatos killed us. Fox... had built in a safeguard... a trap just in case Xanatos would try..."

"But you died in Cyberspace!" Goliath cried. "And who is Findleagh?"

"When Keith destroyed the computers, he managed to stop the program. Everything in cyberspace was frozen, and when the computers were brought back online, we were disgorged. Unfortunately Lexington survived. We barely escaped with our lives... but then something very strange happened. He rushed off... "

"Wait... Lexington... survived?"

"Yes... and we met back at Macbeth's...."

"I am most confused..."

"So am I! In my time you were killed fighting Coyote 4.0. Elisa died... bringing your remains back... she passed into the mists of Avalon..."

"What are you saying?"

"Angela... she warned us... warned the Clan that Xanatos would try to take over the world... with his master plan. We didn't want to believe her at first. But then... Xanatos gained more and more control. He bought out Nightstone, and many other corporations. Gaining more power... till he was able to take over Manhattan. This happened over the course of five years. Angela kept trying to warn us. But I wouldn't listen..."

"What..."

"And only Macbeth and his wife Lucia were able to stand against him... and arm the PIT Crew to stop Xanatos from allying with the Quarrymen..."

"Lucia... who?" Goliath was confused at the cast in this story. "But how did you know Rachel..."

"Rachel MacLaren arrived two years before the Takeover.... right in the midst of a great battle. Somehow she caused an explosion that destroyed Xanatos invasion force of steel clan robots. WE all... escaped to Macbeth's mansion. For the next two years the clan was in hiding."

"You... and Macbeth working together?"

"I know it's crazy. But Angela... she convinced me... that I had to stop Xanatos or I myself would destroy my clan. Dr. Sevarious... he had taken over Nightstone from under my nose. He even captured subjects off the street and began to experiment as never before. Then when he captured Rachel MacLaren, and turned her into a gargoyle I realized something had to be done. She convinced me that if I did not change, my hatred of humanity would destroy the gargoyles. I... wanted to believe her. But she... saved my life when Sevarious tried to take it. Little did I know that was only a drop in the bucket. For he was creating a clone army for Xanatos."

"The Clone wars?"

"Yes. Thailog and I joined the Resistance. By then the PIT crew had formed an alliance with the Manhattan Clan to stop the quarrymen. Castaway was working with Xanatos at the time. I took what little remained, and sank it into a corporation with Macbeth. Thailog's genius caused the wealth to increase to the point to fund our efforts... In 2005, Rachel predicted that Xanatos would strike. But it was Brooklyn that thought of a way to stop Xanatos from trying again with the Steel clan, and he had Lexington devise a virus to paralyze Xanatos' computers..."

"But Xanatos..."

"Fox and her son had fled by that time... and managed to give us the details of the system so Lex could hack in. A small assault team was assembled. Hudson lead it in, and the virus was injected......"

"But what made Xanatos... become what he described?"

"We all thought him dead, when Hudson went into the city, he fought Xanatos. He was killed in an explosion that the virus caused. Lexington... was almost killed in the explosion at Macbeth's mansion..."

"Lex..."

"But he survived, thanks to technology he devised. We managed to lay a rookery... but had to hide it in Macbeth's Mansion..."

"I am going to untie you now. But be warned, any threatening moves..."

"I will comply," Demona glanced up at him, her face sad and serious. It was not the face of a crazed megalomaniac, but of one who had seen much death and was weary of fighting.

Slowly he unbuckled the restraints. Demona lay there quietly as he did so. "You see... I didn't try to rip your throat out. I hope that count's for something..."

"It is a start," Goliath sighed.

"You're awake!" Rachel smiled, holding her hands out as she approached the bed. "I know you must be confused."

"Rachel?" Demona gasped, a smile of joy on her face. Yet the sight of the gargoyle at her side filled her heart with joy.

"Brooklyn! My love!" she cried out, leaping from the bed. Brooklyn gasped as arms tackled him, a pair of lips pressing passionately over his own. He landed on the floor, beneath her solid frame as she sobbed into his white hair.

"Thank God you are alive my love!" she wailed, her eyes bright with tears. Momentarily she held him out at arm's length. That look of love sent a wave of revulsion and thrilled horror through his stomach all at once.

"_Get away from me!_" Brooklyn spat, pushing her away.

"How did you manage to bring him ali..." Demona asked Goliath, a bit taken aback at his rejection. 

"Demona... there is something you should know..." Rachel came over to her. Just then her eyes widened even more at the sight of Hudson striding into the room, hand on his sword.

"Hudson..." she gasped. "My god... it's not possible... I saw you killed..."

Suddenly the world swirled around her. Only Rachel's sturdy arms steadied her, as she fell against the geologist. Nothing made any sense, for all her points of reference were dissolving into the confusion around her. 

"Where I am?" Demona asked, lifting her head to glance at Rachel. 

"Should rather asks WHEN." Brooklyn snarled, wiping his lips with disgust. He spat the last word with extra venom, his eyes staring daggers at the astonished Demona.

"But... my love..." she stammered, his glare piercing her aching heart. The weakness seized her legs, turning them to Jell-O. Only Rachel's arm steadied her now, helping her to the bed once more. Demona glanced helplessly at Rachel, and everybody, her face a mask of total confusion. 

"Demona... there's something you should know..."

"Who are you?" she asked Rachel. "You... are as my friend... but... you are so... so... young..."

"You should know, you turned her into a gargoyle!" Brooklyn spat at Demona. 

Again she winced, squeezing her eyes shut as she turned her head away. Tears formed, and Demona's chin wobbled in a vain attempt to banish them from her eyes.

"Brooklyn, please! You're not helping!" Rachel admonished her beaked friend. "Demona.. You're not in your time anymore, and not in your continuum either."

"But... How did I came here?" Demona asked, tears dripping down her blue cheeks. That look of utter confusion amidst loss struck to Goliath's core. It was the exact look his Night Angel had given him long ago.

"That's what we'd like to know!" Brooklyn commented, earning a warning glance from Goliath.

"I don't belong here!" Demona wailed, putting her hands to her head. Talons dug into red hair, which was not dazzling ruby red, but a soft burgundy. Why had they not noticed the difference before? She looked so lost and alone, drawing her knees into her chest. 

"You... are a time traveler," she grabbed Rachel's lapels of her vest. "Tell me! How can I go home? My clan needs me there!"

"There's a problem, Demona." Rachel stammered, her eyes flickering uncomfortably behind her glasses. "You continuum no long exists."

"What do you mean?" Demona asked, yanking so hard on Rachel's collar she nearly throttled her. "My mate... my clan... my friends... they are..."

Rachel lowered her head, and shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry."

A low moan escaped Demona's throat. She released Rachel's collar, burying her head in her hands. "God no... no... it... can't be..."

"Demona..." Goliath said, hand inches from her.

"I... read a file... from the Matrix... on this postulated reality. I had no idea you would survive. When I learned about you... I read about the possibilities. Lexington... developed a teleporter. He attempted to send you away, disperse your atoms across the multiverse. But the Weird Sister's enchantment combined and backfired. The chain reaction caused a temporal cascade, that destroyed your reality..."

"No... no.... Noo..." Demona stammered, her eyes widening in horror. That empty look of despair stabbed into everyone's hearts. Alone, totally alone.

"Noooooooo!" Demona screamed, her wings flaring as her cry pierced the still air. The windows rattled with its force.

"Demona..." Rachel gasped.

"Out. Leave me alone. Please." She sobbed, curling up into a little ball.

"As you wish," Goliath nodded and goes out. 

Gently Rachel smiled at Demona, her talon stroking the gargress' tear stained cheek. Hudson sighed, moving over to Rachel as he slipped an arm around the former time lady's waist.

"Lass, leave her be. She wants her ain company now..."

Brooklyn stopped, turning to say something. That sharp look from Demona silenced the words in his throat as she said, "Don't. Don't even say it..."

"Come on lad," Hudson pulled him out. They left here there, alone with her memories...." 

"Everyone, this is Demona we see before us... but not the one we know," Goliath explained, to the bewildered gargoyles. "Rachel has suggested she is from another reality... one that no longer exists..."

"Like that makes it okay? How can we..." Brooklyn said.

"Knock it off already!" Rachel hissed. "I trust her..."

"You would trust anyone..." Brooklyn muttered to himself. 

"I suggest that she remain here in the course of due time, for she wishes only to assist us in our fight... against the Demona of our reality. And like Rachel has proved herself, we will give her the same chance," Goliath said. "But Rachel, you will be personally responsible for her actions..."

"Agreed," Rachel nodded gravely.

* * *


	2. Alternate Demona

Disclaimer: Buena Vista and Disney own the characters of Gargoyles, which are being used here without their knowledge or consent. The character of Mona, the alternate Demona, Aunt Maya Florez, are the ideas of Malkavien. Lucia Dominguez, Cesar Ramirez, Keith Polaski, Sharon Lewis, and Rachel Vitreum are my characters, as are the other minor ones not part of gargoyles. Lyrics taken from the song Gallows Pole written and composed by Jon Schaeffler and Hansi K?rsh performed by Demons & Wizards. Ricky Martin's Living the Vie de Loca, and Jennifer Lopez song If I gave you me also appear. This story rated PG-13 for strong language, violence, and some sexual content of a mild nature.

Last Rest Denied

Part 2: 

Written by Trynia Merin 

Synopsis by malkavien@lft.be

***

9PM, Medical Suite: 

Later, her sobs dissipated. It was all so still, blessedly quiet in the castle. Strange to think that a half century from now it would be crammed with computers and nonliving cybots. She resented and welcomed the silence, feeling alone. In this new place and time.

A song came to mind, voicing her angst and strange sense of peace:

"And when I laugh, it's tears I hide

And when I cry, it's joy inside

A foul disease has stained the land

The Bitter harvest of a dying bloom

And When I cry, it's joy inside

A wicked smile for all the tears I hide

It hurts to hold all the pain I feel

The Bitter harvest of a dying bloom"

Her voice rang melodiously in the hospital room, as she thought of her friends all dead. Rachel had believed her, thank god. But would she find the others even remotely alive? Would they accept her?

Slowly the door opened, and a silver face peered in. Demona continued to sing, her voice like rich chocolate, sonorous and sad. She only stopped when she saw she had a silent audience.

"Oh, little one. I didn't see you there..."

Silence backed away, a bit frightened.

"I won't hurt you..." she said, extending a claw. "Please... come back..."

Such was the sincerity in the tone of the alto voice that Silence tentatively waddled back. She was small, her copper wing membranes tucked under that silver skin, red eyes fixing inquisitively on Demona. Claws spanned wide, making signs. 

"You like my singing?" Demona nodded, "yes, I am a friend. I want to be yours."

Silence extended a claw, and Demona touched hers to it. Slowly she stroked her cheek against Demona's hand. It was a soft sensation, which melted her heart. Demona began to sing again, her sense of purpose suddenly renewed. Dare she think she could start over again? 

"Come here," Demona said, and carefully positioned her hands as she spoke. Silence watched intently. Again Demona repeated the sign, and the words. Silence struggled to copy it.

"That's right."

Suddenly Silence formed tentative words with her claws, and Demona narrowed her eyes to try and discern them. "you want to know where I'm from, is that it?"

A nod came as her answer.

"It is a time very long after this..." Demona sighed as she spoke. Then nodded as Silence formed the word, future.

Her mind merged into that space between past and present, as she remembered the last time she had seen the Manhattan Clan together in 2040 AD:

In the depths of sleep she screamed, waking up as she had sworn she heard fire. "Mother! Wake up!" someone nudged her. "It's time..."

"Time..." she asked. Already the process had begun, and she was Gargoyle again. A million times of transformation had not dulled the pain.

"The plan, remember?"

"Dee... yes... of course," Demona whispered, turning to the cinnamon shape. Platinum blonde hair shone like moonstone waterfalls in the night. "Are the others..."

"Brooklyn wanted you to sleep as long as possible," Dee whispered. "But it's not long before Bluestone and Findleagh's team sets off..."

"Where's my gun?"

"Right here, mother," Delilah whispered, pressing the familiar rifle into Demona's hand. Slowly she wrestled her way into the gold armor, following the other gargress down the stairs. Refugees slowly ate a thick beef broth, content just to sit on the Persian carpet then move very far. Both gargress alighted on the bottom floor, not wasting precious minutes as they dropped over the banister.

"Lasses, guid t' see ye can join us," Macbeth nodded, as he stood before the assembly of people. At his side stood his wife, her dark eyes flickering over who was present. What few members of the Resistance remained had gathered here. Brooklyn joined their hosts before the fireplace, pacing back and forth. A fire burned in the antique place, and those that could huddled on the antique sofas for warmth.

"All right people. This is it. I just got the dirt from Bluestone..."

"Is he..."

"The Labyrinth was almost hit last night. We had long suspected there was a turncoat in the midst of the Resistance..."

A low murmur went through the Resistance fighters, and Brooklyn held up a claw for silence. 

"But last night, we got incontrovertible proof who it was! The System crashed...."

"How... what..." Demona asked.

"Don't ask. IT went back online, but the data we pulled out could mean the difference between success and failure. I had this plan in mind for the longest time, and this download will turn the tide..."

"What is it?"

"Defense Specs for the Eerie Pyramid. And... the identity of the one whom helped Xanatos start all this crap..." Brooklyn announced tensely. Eyes glanced wildly about the room in accusation.

"Who?" Macbeth asked, standing with arms folded across his armored chest. Strange how he did not look a day older, trapped in that age like Demona nearby, forever in the twilight years. He had retained the black armor, but it was even more advanced then before.

"Lexington..." Brooklyn's eyes flared. 

"Impossible!" Dee shouted. Demona gripped her daughter's shoulders, before she could leap upon him in anger.

"I wanted to think so too," Brooklyn said. "But this data contained his personal codes. Codes that he devised long ago. I'm sorry Dee..."

"Not Lex! Is not possible!" Delilah howled, pulling against Demona. 

"Lass," Macbeth whispered. "No one knows more then I do how painful this is..."

"Da, let me," Findleagh whispered, and moved over to her, grasping her close in his arms as Demona relinquished her hold. He took her whimpering over to Mute and Claw, softly soothing her. Midnight moved over to her other side, stroking her sister's white hair.

"So what the hell do we do now?" Midnight asked, striding out of the shadows. Her flame colored hair hung much like Demona's, her red eyes fixing onto Brooklyn. Silver battle armor sheathed her onyx form. She fingered her gun nervously, eyes raised to Demona's.

"We go on," Brooklyn snarled. "And make sure those of us who are not here didn't die in vain. So here it is. Matt, you take team Beta, and attack the struts of the Pyramid. While Findleagh, you take the main offensive, with the Hovercraft, and fly defense against the cannons. Rachel, you take Houston and Shennandoah, and knock out what remains of the Clones..."

Grimly Rachel nodded, eyes sad as she regarded him. "WE won't let you down, Mum," Houston whispered, his blue hand slipping into hers. She nodded again, letting Shennandoah stand there proudly, her cinnamon skin radiant in the firelight. How like their father they were!

"And what wuild ye have me do lad?" Macbeth asked.

"You and Lucia stay here, with Art and Gwen, Dee and Broadway. Protect those of us too young to fight. Samson... you are in charge till I return..."

The lavender gargoyle flared his wings before caping them, nodding as he rumbled, "You can count on me... Mentor."

"Right. Demona, you and I, and the Twins go after the main nerve center once the struts are blow, and Rachel's team gives us the all clear. You all know what to do! No matter what, it ends tonight."

A rousing grunt and roar came from the Resistance. At last it seemed within their grasp.

Findleagh turned to Midnight, as she grasped his talon. A low growl escaped her throat, "You better come back, dammit..." 

"Don't I always," he lifted a brow to her. Savagely she threw claws around his neck, and he clutched her close. Blood red lips met his, pressing in a passionate kiss. Her wings wrapped around him, cocooning him in her warm scent. His olive fingers tunneled through her scarlet tresses so like her mother's. The warmth of the bond shared in spirit moved betwixt them.

"Demona..." Lucia gripped her friend's hand. "I want you to have something... for luck..."

"You have already given me the shelter of your home, and your own bed..." Demona protested.

"Not enough..." Lucia reached around her neck, and pulled out a silver crucifix. She fastened it around her friend's neck before she could stop her.

"I can't take this..." Demona protested.

"No my friend, God be with you," Lucia kissed Demona's forehead. 

Macbeth walked over to them , his hand extended to her. "Lass... Godspeed..."

"Take care of my daughters," she said.

"I shall," Macbeth whispered, and enveloped Demona in a fierce embrace. Her wings wrapped around the immortal king, black coat and all. For a minute they drew strength from their mutual bond that fueled their centuries of shared pain and joy.

Demona pressed a kiss to his bearded cheeks, her voice choked in her throat. Macbeth felt the odd double sensation of his own lips kissing his own face, and their arms entwined. For a brief moment their lips met in a spirited kiss that sent them back centuries. Till they both withdrew, their minds very much in the present.

"Take care of the future... the rookery..." she choked out.

"Forever and always, one," he nodded gravely to her. "As I live, ye live. As ye die, I die..." 

* * *

Next Morning, Macbeth's Mansion 8 AM: 

"Wake up, Lennox!" the black haired lass giggled, nudging the silver haired gent beside her. Gently her kiss traced over the curve of his ear.

"Rise and shine! We've got a busy day ahead of us... remember? Picnic in the park... followed by a little bit of frolicking about..."

"Och, ma head," Macbeth moaned, stirring under the monogrammed sheets. He rubbed his brow, and glanced over at the woman nestled beside him. Her smile faded to concern when she noticed the glazed look in his eyes. Both sat up, regarding each other in the dimness of early morning.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You look like crap... not that you aren't handsome normally... but you look... well, like something a cat dragged in. Didn't you get any sleep?"

"I feel fair enau like it," Macbeth muttered, struggling to a sitting position. Come the rising of the sun, a sharp pain had shot through his body. He had gritted his teeth as he struggled to keep his groans from waking the sleeping beauty beside him. Reluctantly he'd slipped out of her arms and into the bathroom, muffling his cries of pain that shot through his entire form. He could swear that he should have stopped them long ago.

Now that dull ache subsided from his forehead, and he felt the effects of a concussion. Slowly that had faded in a hauntingly familiar manner. By the time Lucia had nudged him gently awake, he was still suffering from a strange shock and tingling. His mind struggled with the revelation, small pieces falling into a disturbing puzzle. Was Puck right? Desperately he sat there with sheets pulled up to his waist, wanting more then anything to deny the inevitable conclusion. 

"Macbeth," she whispered, stroking his silver beard. Normally the sound of his real name on her lips brought him joy, but he seemed indifferent to anything save the jolt of fear in his heart. "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing for ye to worry about, m'love," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her worried forehead. Again he rubbed his brow, feeling her gentle fingers rubbing into his powerful shoulders. 

"That does it, you need a massage, senior!"

"Och, that is right guid enau..." he inhaled, while she worked her magic spell on his back. Just where had she learned to give such a soothing massage? He had her ex boyfriend Caesar to thank for that, one of the few useful things out of that disastrous relationship. Macbeth made a mental note to look this Caesar up one of these days, and inquire just what this fellow thought of the present situation. A few dozen ways of slowly torturing a cocky young maclarty came to mind in the immortal king's head. Some of them involved a few of the devices he kept in his dungeon floors below.

"You're so tense, you could fool me," she shook her head. She slipped up behind him, sitting on the bed pillows as she pressed her bare front to his back. Macbeth looked down at the caramel legs bracketing his hips, feeling the softness of her breasts on his aching spine. Gently she pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, her manicured fingernails dancing lightly over his chest. Her chin rested in the groove between neck and shoulder as she breathed softly into his ear. That pain was so damned familiar. He had not felt it in months, but he could swear that....

"No," he whispered, throat choking as he pulled out of her grasp. Slowly he climbed out of bed. He reached for his robe automatically, face towards the morning sun.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, looking a bit hurt.

Macbeth snapped out of his brown study, and turned to face her. She hugged the sheets around her bare chest, her dark eyes questioning and vulnerable. It was not her fault this pain. Nor did they imbibe in any fine wines the night before. Simply rich chocolate mocha and hazelnut coffee.

"I'm sorry Lass," he whispered, joining her on the bed again. Slowly he kissed her hand, working his way up to her bare shoulder. "It's nothing. Just an old injury..."

"I thought you said your injuries healed..." she murmured, swooning at the tiny shivers erupting from each kiss.

"So did I, but since the spell ended... I'm not altogether sure..."

"Lennox... what is going on?" she grabbed his bearded chin, forcing him to stare her in the face. 

"Look, I may not know you all that long, and I might be new to all of this... but don't I have a right to know? I mean... I might not understand..."

Macbeth let loose a sigh, "Of course ye are right, m'dear. I was in pain... but I wasn't sure of the source. Normally any injury heals. But this pain... it was as if my whole body was being broken apart and reformed."

"A curse?" Lucia asked, as he straddled her on the bed. Nothing but the sheet was between them, but the feel of his weight was just as sensual as if their nude bodies would have been touching skin to skin.

"Aye, an ancient one that I thought was forever behind me," he said, settling on his knees over her hips. "Remember I told you of the bargain with the Weird sisters?"

"Each the other's pain resound, forever and eternal bound? Yes, but you said that you weren't bonded to that gargoyle anymore... right? So why are you in pain?"

"I dinna like to think of the answer, but somehow the spell has been renewed..." Macbeth sighed. 

"Are you sure?"

"Lass, I know the pain," he said slowly. "Every morning and every evening I feel its effects..."

"What pain?"

"Demona's transformation," he shook his head. 

"Oh god," Lucia looked up at him, eyes full of concern. It melted him inside as she pressed a fevered kiss to his face. "I'm sorry!"

"As am I," he returned her kiss. "Once again fate has ensnared me."

"But when did you first..."

"Only today..." Macbeth muttered, stopping as she stroked her hands through his scalp. "But when I fought Canmore... my back was broken, and I should have been paralyzed. Yet the healing set in quickly. That had not happened for a while..."

"But you said you still healed quickly..."

"Yes... at first I thought it was a residual affect. But this means I am bonded to Demona... and that spell... I am immortal!"

A look of anguish came over his face as he sat to one side of her. Lucia's heart rose into her throat as she saw him hunched over in despair. He buried his head in his hands, drawing his knees up into his chest on the bed. At first Lucia wasn't sure whether to let him alone or comfort him. Suddenly her life seemed very insignificant and small compared to the depth of sorrow she saw written on that face.

"Lennox," she whispered, running a hand over his shoulder, tentatively. He did not respond, slipping further into his own despair.

"Macbeth," she tried again, and encircled his body with her young arms. "Look at me..."

Blue gray eyes fixed into hers, and there were tears misting them over. "Lass... we can never live a normal life... when I thought..."

"Like what is normal," she seized his bearded face. "you tell me, senior! I love you, and I hate seeing you so upset! Isn't there anything I can do. I'm not a witch, or a sorceress, or genetic engineer, but there must be something..."

"There is," he said, gripping her hand. "Tell me... does the thought of..."

"If you're scared that I'm going to run screaming in fear from you because I'm going to grow old and die while you don't, you're nuts!" she snapped. "Don't even go there!"

"Are ye sure," he said, glancing at her.

"Have I ever been dishonest with you?" she parroted his words back. Lucia pressed a kiss to his lips, slipping her leg over his robed one. Her arms encircled his neck, fingers digging into his silvery hair. His resistance and anger melted away for a short sweet moment. Fingers gripped at his robe, her hands slipping under it to finger the gray hairs on his chest. 

He broke the kiss, "Lucia, are ye quite sure..."

"Mm hmm," she answered, her hands slipping lower. A gasp cut off his next words as he felt electric shocks jolting through his body. She leaned into him, balancing on top of him as she pulled the cord of his robe open. Any last protests in his mind faded as he pulled her into his arms, slipping the sheets over them. He drank in her kiss, relishing the feel of her hot warm breath in his mouth. Gently his tongue caressed against hers, and she shivered spasmodically there.

"I just have one question," Lucia pulled away, to catch a breath.

"Which is?" he raised a eyebrow, slipping his leg over her as his weight pressed her deliciously into the mattress.

"You said you can feel pain through this bond. But couldn't you also well... feel pleasure?"

"Hmm," he muttered.

"I mean... it's a logical guess. I mean if Demona's out there making love... haven't you ever had well..." she asked, then blushed.

"I have had rather erotic dreams on occasion, yes... but I never thought..."

"Well then, let's give her something to dream about," Lucia looked wickedly up at him with a mischievous grin.

"Mm **hmm**," Macbeth shared her smile, and pulled her under the covers. Her giggled shriek muffled under the assault of his hungry lips.

* * *

Central Park, 10 AM: 

That day they wandered lazily through central park, his arm in hers, with a picnic basket hanging over his other. Blue skies overhead seemed so peaceful compared to the turbulence of the past few weeks. They threaded their way through the maze of trees, towards the huge open field at the center of the park.

If Lucia did not see the spires of Central Park west through the gaps in the trees, she might believe they were in the midst of a forest. Only the presence of a few soccer players, and other picnickers under the bright sun betrayed the fact there was civilization. 

"Here's a good spot," she pointed to a pleasant spot under the shade of a red leaf maple, and he tossed down the blanket. Lucia and he perched on the sides of the tartan stretch and began to sort through what they had brought from his kitchen. It was a fun time between the two of them deciding what to take, and how to prepare it. She should not have been surprised that he could cook himself, even though he had a part time chef and a housekeeper on his staff.

The sturdy basket was one of those European styles, complete with racks that held real china plates, and silverware. No plastic fare here.

A breeze sang chilled her scalp, rustling leaves overhead. There was fruit salad, fresh sandwiches of several varieties, and even a bottle of Perrier. For the first half-hour they did not talk, only glanced at each other with silent smiles as they watched the world go on around them. 

"Hard to believe those Quarrymen were chasing through here," she commented through a mouthful of ambrosia. She leaned on one side, her ambrosia before her as she held up her head on one folded arm. Across the food from her he lay in a much similar position, head similarly propped on an upright hand. Horizontally the differences in height vanished. 

"I quite agree," he nodded, washing away the remainders of sandwich with a few sips of sparkling Perrier. Like many in Europe he regularly consumed the sparkling mineral water. Normally he would have brought wine, but there were a few limits to the situation. A few crumbs had fallen onto his partly unbuttoned shirt, pale heather against tanned skin. The outfit was casual academic, dress trousers of a dark brown, and the hound's tooth jacket overtop the collarless shirt. Sturdy leather walking shoes completed the ensemble, freshly polished. Across from him she had on her spaghetti strap sundress with light blue flowers over navy blue. Her cardigan was only buttoned at the top, her long dark hair pulled back into an updo with a spring clip. As always the platform sandals decked her feet.

"Used to come here a lot with my aunt," she shook her head, finishing the last bite of her chicken salad sandwich. "One of those places you could come without spending anything. Had to get really good at it too..."

"How fortunate you had lived here of all places," he nodded. 

Neither noticed the frail Latino woman who happened to wander by, her face half concealed by the scarf she wrapped around her neck. That simple floral print dress and the low-heeled shoes indicated a simple yet feminine style. Around her neck she fingered the silver crucifix beneath a string of pearls.

She stopped momentarily, leaning on her cane as she beheld the picnickers. Something seemed very familiar about that one couple. Slowly she made her way onto the green to investigate. 

Macbeth leaned under the tree, his stomach well full of homemade sandwiches by now. Times of such peace seemed few and far between anymore. Lucia pillowed her head on his chest, her body at a perpendicular angle to his. He shifted one arm under his neck, pulling his other hand to push the stray locks of hair out of her face.

She could almost fall asleep then and there, her own belly full of lunch, and know that she was safe. Smiling, she turned over to press her ear against his chest. Something felt cold and hard in the breast pocket of his jacket, and she sat up a bit. "Prof., cant ya leave the pens and calculator behind?" she joked as she pawed through it's contents. Several gold plated pens, a pocket watch, tumbled into her hand. 

"Academics does have a way of creeping up upon one unexpectedly," he chuckled. "But I digress... there is something else here," he sat up, and she moved opposite him. He reached for something in the inner pocket, and she was a bit nervous as he extracted what appeared to be a small cloth envelope. Gently he lay it on her palm.

"What on earth..." she asked, and took his nonverbal cue. Onto her hand tumbled a length of gold chain, delicate but strong, with what appeared to be a crest or coat of arms as a pendant. Small, perhaps thumbnail sized, but intricately worked in shimmering gold.

"I've seen this on the banners at your home," she said. "Beautiful!" 

"The crest of clan Moray," he nodded. "Care t' try it on?"

"I couldn't wear this..." she stammered, realizing the implication.

He took it from her shaking hand, twisting free the clasp. It was not your simple hook and latch, but the high quality cylinder screw clasp that stopped many a necklace from disappearing. Her aunt's pearl string had such a latch. Both hands deftly draped it over her neck, meeting in the back as the two halves twisted into place at the nape.

"Oh no," she shook her head, then fingered the workings on it with disbelief. He pressed a kiss to her forehead softly, retreating with that questioning glance.

"Never looked bonnier," he nodded.

"Lennox you... you didn't have to..." she stammered, before his fingers upon her lips stopped her protests. It hung just above the crucifix around her neck. With shaking hands she unlatched the small gold cross, and held it up to his. "Please take this... I know it's not much... but..."

Amused, he leaned over graciously and let her fasten the petite chain around his neck. It hung at his throat, a light sweet weight. 

"Yer confirmation present..." he said, grasping her hand. "Ye didna ha t..."

"I do," she nodded. "Please... I want you to have it..."

Such a simple thing, a cross like he'd seen at the breast of many a young girl over the centuries. Perhaps one of the few pieces of gold she had retained from childhood. Yet there was so much it was as if she'd given him her heart. His own, centuries old, seemed to melt as it had not in so long.

From behind the shade of the trees, the matron watched carefully as the two embraced. She would have to have a word with her niece about this little revelation.

* * *

Macbeth had his arm around Lucia's waist as they walked along the small creek. They were approaching the exit of the park when Lucia noticed a familiar figure.

"Uh... I didn't think she would be here..."

"Who, m'love?" he asked, as she stopped.

"My aunt," Lucia half rolled her eyes.

"And why have I not been introduced?" Macbeth asked a bit teasingly.

"Well... I was waiting for the right time and place..." she explained.

"Hmm, fair enau," Macbeth sighed as again his words were parroted back to him.

Lucia pulled him by the hand, over to where the small boned woman stood. Dark eyes fixed into his, and he could swear they looked somehow familiar. Could it be?

"And who is this gentleman, Chia?" she asked, a hand on her hip.

"Auntie..." she cringed. "I know what you're going to say..."

"Pleasure to meet you... Seniora..."

"Seniora Flores," she nodded, as he extended his hand.

"Lennox MacDuff, at yer service. I was just... escorting yer niece t..."

"You sir, what are your intentions to my niece?" she asked, lowering her glasses to glance at him. Macbeth could swear he saw a hint of recognition in those sharp eyes that missed no detail. Even the crest of Moray pendant upon her niece's chest.

"Purely honorable," Macbeth assured her, a bit put off by that sharp gaze. 

"Hmm, we'll see. How would you like to bring your gentleman friend to coffee?" 

"Auntie..."

"I would be delighted to join you, Seniora," Macbeth inclined his head. Gallantly he offered her his arm. "If you'll but tell me where... I'd be happy t' call a cab..."

"Hmm, if you insist," Aunt Maya nodded, and slipped her other arm into his as he walked both ladies out of the park. He was good to his word, hailing a cab as she spoke the destination. West New York. A good ten dollars. Macbeth did not think twice about paying the fair.

Before long they were sitting in her apartment, a small clean neat one bedroom place in East New York. The sofa was one of those second hand antiques, with lace doilies draped over the back and arms. 

"Am I not mistaken in asking if you are already married, a gentleman of your... ahem... station in life?"

"I once was..." Macbeth said levelly. "Till a separation occurred.... Due to irreconcilable differences..."

* * *

Canmore Hall, Freshman Dorm, 1PM: 

"Okay, spill it! Where have ye been dissaperin off t'?" the red headed roomie demanded, hands on her hips.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Lucia grinned, tossing her schoolbag onto the lower of the two bunk beds. "Heh," Molly O'Keefe laughed, flicking a wisp of red hair from her face. "I betcha I know what it tis!"

"Really?" Lucia asked, turning to face her friend.

"Ye've a boyfriend, right? Ye've meet a boy, and y' don' want yer roomie t' whisk him away, right?"

"Well," Lucia blushed.

"I guessed it! Congrat's gel! So... what's he like, yer fella?"

"He's very... nice," she grinned smugly.

"Details, gal pal I want details mind ya!" Molly slipped in front of her, with a saucy wink. That red hair seemed to defy gravity, stuck straight up and spiky with the assistance of half a container of hair gel.

"Molly," she pretended to be horrified. "I'm a proper girl right? A good little catholic girl. I don't kiss and tell!"

"Tosh!" Molly laughed, nudging her with one fist. "A right proper gel ya are! And I'm the Queen of France..."

"Pleased to meet you your royal highness," Lucia giggled nervously.

"I know you. I didn' corrupt ya for my own guid, but yers. Now out w' it! What's he like, and where's he living..."

Just then the phone rang. Molly and Lucia dove for it, the latter girl mouthing a silent thank you to the Lady. Her roommate was a fraction faster, and chirped, "Talk t' me!" as Lucia cringed. "No I'm her roomie... yes... she's here... ye what... oh nothing..."

"Who is it?" Lucia hissed, but Molly playfully held up her hand as she chattered for a near minute.

"It's for ya..." she said, passing it on to her. "Some guy who says he knows ya from a while back..."

"Who?"

"Didn't say his name..."

"You could have..."

"Don't keep the gentleman waiting," Molly grinned, and passed her the phone.

"Hello?" Lucia asked. Suddenly her smile melted away, and continued to form into a frown with each passing word.

"No... I don't want to see you. Cesar... it's been six months... no... I don't... I don't... look, it's over... why..."

Molly's pencilled eyebrows narrowed in concern for her friend. Lucia looked increasingly more uncomfortable. "But you didn't have to... you're what? Oh... all right but... hello? Hello?"

"What was that all about I might ask?" Molly asked. "He sounded cheerful enau..."

"It's Caesar," she groaned. "And he's just transferred in from Columbia, and he wants to meet me... for coffee..."

"And I take it yer not exactly thrilled, eh?"

"No."

"Ex boyfriend?" Molly asked.

"Yes..."

"Why didn't you tell me, gal?" she asked, pulling Lucia's sleeve. "I would've even let him talk t' ya otherwise..."

"He wants to apologize," she shook her head. "I... well..."

"That's something. Ya could meet him fer coffee, make him squirm, and then see what happens..."

"But he's transferring here! And he'll be around," Lucia flushed hot. "It's kind of like... awkward having your ex around when you're dating..."

"Heh, leave him t' me..."

"No, the last time you dated one of my ex boyfriends... all hell broke loose..." 

"Like I said..." Molly grinned. "Is he handsome?"

"Gorgeous," she sighed. "That's the problem. We didn't part really well... and I still am confused... he sounded so nice and kind... but... he wants to be friends and all..."

"Hmm... that's the story, eh," Molly twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

* * *

NYU Campus, 1 PM: 

Professor MacDuff was far from his usual self when Keith and Sharon happened to pass him on the path. "Hey Prof., what gives? Lu said you looked like crap!"

"Och, does nothing get past yer ears?" MacDuff muttered, rubbing his head.

"You don't look too well..."

"Prof., what's going on?" Keith asked.

"I dinna think ye'd understand..."

"Oh bullshit! I only kicked Castaway's ass with you and two guys from a magic mirror world..."

"Verra well," Macbeth held up his hand, and gestured to Keith and Sharon to follow him as he made his way to the faculty's parking garage.

"Now what's this all about..."

"Ye recall the story about my immortality... that just so happened to slip from our guid friend's lips last time?" Macbeth asked.

"yeah..."

"Well, it would seem that I am now immortal. The ancient curse has been reinstated.... And I must find the source..."

"What curse?" asked Sharon. "What the hell are you..."

"Later Shar!" Keith snapped, and waved her off.

"Hell no! You tell me what the fuck is going on or..."

"Young lady, I thank ye not t' use such language!" Macbeth snapped at her irritably. "It's most unbecoming of a lass..."

"Lucia said you were in pain this morning," Sharon drew in her breath, trying to regain her self control. "Care to explain?"

"I thought your body handled any injury..."

"Part of this bargain is that I feel pain... to who I am bonded to..." Macbeth remarked.

"Soo you're searching for some sort of magic version of Maalox?" Keith quipped.

* * *

Castle Wyvern, 11 AM: 

The clothes were loose, but comfortable. IT was far better then wearing that hospital gown. Fox's clothing would be a bit snug, but more "stylish". Yet not quite as well worn and comfortable as Rachel's. Generously the geologist had sifted through some of the duffel bags and handed her a blouse, hiking pants, and boots with sturdy socks. The black boots she recalled Rachel say were "Doc Martins". Apparently they had the same shoe size at least.

Through the high windows, the morning sun shone golden beams into the library. Strange to think of how clear the air was, even though it was New York. In the future a brown haze hovered over Manhattan, thick and choking.

Everywhere in this castle was a reminder of what might yet happen. No corner, no stone could she pass without it screaming a lifetime of memories.

Strange to think of how she had ridiculed the human men, when she was flipping channels one night. A special had been on about Vietnam Vets. Demona remembered sitting comfortably in her mansion as she remembered following the war most carefully. For years she had secretly holed up in her Mansion, watching, waiting, for any sign of technology that could culminate her secret plans. At the turn of the century she had purchased the place, moving her treasures massed over the centuries. 

Human wars fascinated her. The only works of human hands she admired were the deadly weapons they created to kill themselves. Also, she had an eye for the artworks they created. Not because she particularly cared for human art, but for its monetary value, in obtaining more weapons. Eventually she had a grudging appreciation for human artwork as the Renaissance happened, then the Impressionists. She began to keep some art, instead of hoarding it for the auctioneer's block where it would be liquidated to cash for buying more weapons.

Now she had little desire to even glance at the armory in the castle. Xanatos had many shields and suits of armor here and there. It almost sickened her to look at swords and spears any more. If only she could be back at Macbeth's house among the things of beauty. He always kept lovely works of art, refusing to sell his most precious pieces unless it was to achieve funds for the Resistance. When Art ceased to be something anyone dared spend money for, his home was one of the last places that cared to preserve it. 

When a society valued works of war over works of art, it was doomed to mass destruction. Leaving the soldiers in the aftermath. Now safely away from that century, she felt the odd numbness. Her waking moments were filled with the eerie emptiness of a thousand lives. She could see the faces of everyone she had known floating behind her eyelids as she closed her eyes to rest. It got difficult to lay down and want to sleep for fear she would hear the cries and screams. 

Those Vietnam vets must feel much the same. How foolish was she to ridicule them! 

The shouts faded into smoke and fire. She snapped out of a waking dream to find herself near the playroom. Owen Burnett scooted a stuffed gargoyle bear with wings away from Alex. The little guy was perhaps six now, and scooted on his indoor push wagon after the major domo. It was funny to see Alex pounce on Owen, grabbing the man's shoulders as he decided Owen would make a more amusing mount then the rocking horse in one corner.

"Giddiyap!" he cried, and Owen obligingly made stirrups with his feet. This was the only time she saw the stiff fellow loosen up. "Faster, faster!"

"Oh baby, if only you know what you had to face later," she sighed, gripping the door. Her face dropped as she felt the memories flooding again: Running scared, that's all that they ever seemed to do any more. Even with the last battles that were mere triumphs, the hell never seemed to end.

Demona gritted down the pain, fangs biting into her teeth as she set the last of the charges. In one last desperate hope the Resistance decided to strike its final, fatal blow. Brooklyn's master plan had moved quickly, fiercely in its first stages. Attack the supports of the Erie Pyramid, hit Thailog shock troops, and wipe out the Mainframe with a computer virus. She could recall that fateful night when they all gathered in Macbeth's mansion, struggling to think of a last plot which could save them all.

It had come about after the last fevered attempt, to liberate Broadway and Lexington from the Pyramid. Brooklyn's party had managed to sneak in, to rescue their two friends, only to find themselves staring down the bores of a dozen laser weapons.

The victims lined the halls of his manor. Among the priceless art treasures Mute and Claw spread out more and more palates. Every day they seemed to add more to this shelter, where dozens had fled. There were even more in the Labyrinth, but the worst of the cases were sent here. A veritable fortress, its armaments were trained on those distant spires of Manhattan.

"Madre de Dios, more?" the silver haired woman asked, when Brooklyn and Demona landed, carrying a huddled shape between them.

"Unfortunately," Demona shook her head. "The last attempt... to retrieve Alex Fox... failed..."

"How did you escape?" Mrs. MacDuff asked, glancing at her old friends. They lowered Broadway between them, his sightless eyes unable to see the fading splendor around him. 

"It was the weirdest thing," Demona said. "The shock troops were right upon us, but somehow they were cut down... almost as if by another force. We rushed away in the skirmish, and managed to pull Broadway out..."

"Damn good thing too," a dark haired lad cut in, rushing to his mother's side. Barely out of adolescence, he gripped her hands tight. "Or else the bloody bastards would have scrapped us fer sure..."

"Must you use such language, young man?" she reproved him.

"Mamma, please!" he groaned. "Now's not the time for that..."

"Thank God you're all right," she gripped her son close, embracing him through sleek black armor and all. The blue trenchcoat concealed the various weaponry slung about his muscled thighs. Hands stroked through thick brown hair, and over a beard just coming into existence on his tanned cheeks.

"But Lexington," Brooklyn lowered his eyes. "He... he..."

"He didn't make it," Findleagh MacDuff shook his head, looking down into his mother's dark eyes with a pair that were a steely gray. Demona's own eyes filled with tears that she pushed away.

"The Steel Clan was all over him... before when knew what the hell hit..." Brooklyn gritted, his red talons knotting into fists.

"We'd better break the news to the others..." Demona said to her mate, going to his side. Gently she lay her flamed haired head on his shoulders. 

"Best tell Da," Findleagh looked down at his mother. "There will be more coming t' the mansion. 

They tagged along. There's no enau room in the Labyrinth to hide them anymore..."

"You tell him, my child. I want to have a word with Demona..." she kissed his cheek. Nodding gravely, the young warrior strode down the armory hall.

"How many more will die," Demona looked to Brooklyn. He gritted his fangs, unable to answer.

"You saved lives today," Mrs. MacDuff held up her hands. The tattered gown she wore seemed ancient on her sturdy shoulders. Strangely contrasted by the creme colored battle armor worn overtop. It was a similar style to her son's, except accommodating for her shapely figure. Well into her forties, she was still a pillar of silent strength.

"I gotta call Bluestone and Fox at Team Beta... make sure everything's all right..." Brooklyn remarked. "My guess it they'll hit the Labyrinth once they know what the hell just happened..." 

The two friends sadly moved side by side up the stairs. Demona glanced about the mansion, remembering other times that had driven her here, against her will. They trod carefully, so as not to step on people laying on their palates upstairs.

"You seem so morose, is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"I'm so tired," Demona shook her head. "So tired..."

"You could lay down upstairs. The main bedroom..."

"No, my friend. Not that sort of tired. More like the centuries of weariness..."

"You sound like Lennox," she shook her head, the curly hair pulled up into a loose knot by an silver Celtic barrette. Around her neck Demona saw a flash of gold, which was the crest of Moray.

"But did you not strike a blow for victory today?"

"Only because of a freak accident..." Demona sighed, stopping as she glanced at the paintings. Such an island of beauty in a world which knew little of it anymore. 

"But does that matter? Fortune is on our side... I can feel it. If you loose hope then the Clan..."

"I've tried so hard," Demona gripped her friend's hand in her three fingered one. "To be brave. But there is only so much I have left to give... First Hudson, then Fox..."

"Fox..." She repeated, glancing down at her feet. Sadness filled her face. 

"It was not two months ago before he disappeared into the Erie Pyramid. Broadway said that they thought he had seen a Trace of him... but we couldn't get to him in time."

"At least you rescued Broadway... Angela would be pleased..."

"Yes, she would, wouldn't she," Demona sighed deeply. Gripping hands they shared a moment of silence. At last they reached the bedroom, and Demona felt the characteristic changes beginning over her as she felt muscles and bones reknitting in her body.

* * *

Castle Wyvern, 1 PM: 

"Ma'am, Rachel Vitreum is not available right now..." Owen Burnett patiently explained to Captain Chavez.

"Well, where is she?"

"You are aware that..."

"Oh stupid me! She's in stone, right?"

"I must apologize...."

"No problem. I'll wait around..."

"If you wish..." Owen nodded. "The lounge and guest area is this way..."

"Things must be really hectic around here right now, with all the recent happenings?"

"Indeed. I also surmise you yourself have hectic times being a Police Captain..."

"Thanks. By the way... I don't see a wedding ring. You married Mr. Burnett?"

"No ma'am. My duties do not permit me time for such activity. Nor have they for a very long time, Ma'am."

"More's the pity," Chavez clicked her tongue.

"Excuse me?" Owen raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I find that sometimes the best sounding board is my husband... or was when he was alive..." she said. "Shame you don't have that to turn to..."

"I trust you have not benefited from such an arrangement lately..."

"Jose's been dead some ten years now. Caught it right in the chest from a drug raid, when he was undercover..."

"I am sorry..."

"Thanks..." she smiled, and then waved her hand. "But that's the past. A piece of advice. Don't wear your tie so tight. It cuts off the flow of blood to the rest of your body. And also, don't be afraid to take time off... for friends..."

"I will take that under advisement. Now If you'll excuse me..."

"Whoo, what a stiff," Chavez muttered to herself. She found herself watching his ass moving under those starched pants. "Not a bad rear view. If only he'd loose the glasses once in a while..."

Out of the corner of her eye as she sat, she noticed the redhead. Wandering in what looked like Rachel's spare capris and blouse.

"Hey, don't be a stranger..."

"Maria Chavez?" she asked.

"Hey, you know me? Don't believe I've met you..."

"Mona...." she said.

"You know my name. Do you work for Xanatos..."

"No," "Mona" laughed. 

"You look a hell of a lot like Dominique Destine, CEO of Nightstone..." said Chavez.

"You police always have an eye for detail..."

"So you her twin or something?" Chavez asked. "Mona" sat down beside her, feeling at east with this no nonsense policewoman.

"yes... you could say so..." "Mona" sighed sadly.

"Say, do you know Rachel?"

"Yes..."

"Good friend of mine. That's the pair of pants she almost ripped to shreds teaching me last summer... the Catskills..."

"You... are her friend too?"

"We go back a ways," Chavez nodded. "Say, you must know about..."

"Yes. I do. And in some way I feel responsible..."

"How do you figure that?"

"I suppose I should tell someone else. It's rather unbelievable..."

The story spilled out of her. Chavez listened, unflappable. If she didn't believe she gave a damn good act that she did.

"So let me get this straight. You're the alternate double of some Dominique... who happens to change into a gargoyle at night?"

"Yes. Pretty much..."

"Whoa. Serious shit here. So why are you here anyway?"

"My universe is no more..."

"That really bites."

"You believe me?"

"Honey, I've seen serious shit in the past five years. Don't let Bluestone it, but I've had my suspicious for years. And the way I see it there are two things you can do..."

"What?"

"One, get a new look. Two, come shopping with me..."

"Shopping... with you?"

"Today's my day off. I was gonna spend it with Ray. But you're a good candidate for a day out."

* * *

4 PM, Little Cuba, West New York: 

"I don't know about this, Maria," "Mona" said to her a bit pensively. They walked along a lively neighborhood, Latino music pulsing from a tinny speaker. Shop fronts blared their messages in Spanish on pink and orange signs. Salon, Ristaurante, and many other small stores bustled with people.

"Don't tell me, you've always done your own hair?"

"Well, when I was Dominique... I had a stylist come in and do it for me..."

"That's a waste of time and Money," Chavez clicked her tongue. "Today's a special. I've known this guy for years. He might even give us a two for one deal..."

Mona sipped the soda, washing away the tangy spices of the bean burrito and fried ice cream they'd sampled for lunch. Her stomach was full of rich spicy food, which burned so wonderfully going down. 

"After this we'll get you some new threads," Chavez nodded. "There's a boutique up the street..."

"You're being so nice to me..."

"Hey, why not?" Chavez asked. "Now come in..."

A portly Cuban gentleman laughed a greeting to Maria, as he kissed her on both cheeks. She fired a quick line of Spanish back to him, and laughed. "Jose, aki... Mona..."

"Buenos dias," Mona smiled.

"Give us the works..."

"But I don't know what style..." Demona protested.

"Heh, have a coffee while I work on Ria, then you choose..." he smiled, escorting her to a velvet lined chair. A book was thrust into her hand, and she gaped at all the hairstyles. Maria giggled, settling next to her. "That one looks nice..."

"But..." she clawed through her hair.

"Come on, you gotta loose some of that length. It'll be fun..." Maria chided.

Soon Jose was lathering shampoo onto Maria's short mane, and his wife Morezlacis was slathering cool gel over Demona's. The feel of human hands caressing her scalp, mingled with warm water was soporific. 

Her ears drifted through the sound of water, and distant music. Jennifer Lopez sang out:

"If you had my love 

and I gave you all my trust

Would you comfort me, baby?"

Demona found herself humming along. Maria wondered at the rich sound of her voice blending in seamlessly so it was hard to see where Lopez ended and Mona began. 

"Nice voice, Chiquita... you ever thought about singing for the records?"

"Well... I only sang for my Clan... I mean... my family," she said sheepishly.

"This way Senorita. Now what do you want? Short, sweet, daring?"

"Ohh... I don't know. Chop it off," she moaned, thinking about the endless possibilities.

"Highlights may look nice," said Jose, fingering her hair. "Your hair is fabulous. Never treated, was it?"

"No..."

"We'll make you look nice. Trust me!"

Demona shot Maria a tentative look. "Give her the works," she nodded.

"Oh what did I get myself into?" Demona inwardly muttered as he began to clip her hair up with the claws. All over her hair the scissors clacked, as he pinched off locks of burgundy and scarlet between his short dexterous fingers. He fell into a steady tempo, and Demona found herself singing:

"Her lips are devil red, her skin the color moca... she will wear you out... living the vie de loca...

Woke up in New York City, in a Funky Cheap motel

She stole my heart, she stole my money,

Must have slipped me a sleeping spell...

She never orders water, always orders French champagne..."

"Ricky Martin, you know that?" Maria laughed with a stern look.

"Hey, we didn't know the latest hits," Demona laughed, then realized how silly that sounded.

Chavez began to wince when Morezlacis began to hum a few bars from West Side Story. "Oh god, don't' start that..."

"You always loved that as a girl, Ria," Jose laughed.

"Not a thousand times over!" she clicked her tongue.

Demona suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. It felt good to laugh again after so long. Mischievously she began to sing I wanna be in America. Maria almost lost it when she heard the first few bars.

"Your friend's a live one," Jose grinned.

"You said it, not me," Demona shrugged. Maria grinned. That smile went to Demona's heart. At last she was beginning to feel some measure of peace.

* * *

Javastop coffee house, NYU campus, 5 PM: 

Lucia continued to count change. It was close to the end of her shift, and she was looking forwards to her next rendezvous with the gentleman she had come to love in just two short weeks. That would happen around six, when he'd see his last student, and take a taxi to Central Park, and she would grab one ten minutes of six to meet him. They had become more clandestine about their meetings, so as not to arouse suspicion by anyone on campus. Then she'd climb into either his private driver car, or a black Jaguar if he had driven himself that particular day. It was but a thirty to forty five-minute ride to his place depending on traffic. 

Despite the age difference it had never felt so right. Certainly he was far from the average man, but it seemed so natural. Which was why she was nervous about this rendezvous. First, she had to go through with meeting someone who represented her past life, a loose end that was never quite tied off. She wasn't looking forwards to it, and she was afraid to tell him about it, for fear he would somehow be overprotective. 

Molly had offered to come, and Lucia asked her to show up fifteen minutes after four, when Cesar would come here for his coffee. She didn't want to seem too overly scared of him, for the first thing the man she now loved had taught her was never to let the opposition know your defensive plan. Don't show your hand till you scope out your opponent.

Actually she didn't know what to expect, when she closed her line, and let the next gal bring her drawer to replace hers. It didn't help when she saw several guys in black jackets walk into the shop, with three Greek letters QMU pinned to their lapels. Still the group was allowed to exist on campus, despite the recent explosive rally. Even though they were a legitimate fraternity, everyone knew nonverbal that they were really quarrymen. Balling her hands into fists, she struggled to breathe easily. In and out, in and out. As she found her center, her eyes opened again, and fell upon the tall dark youth that breezily stopped by her table. 

His slick hair was greased into place with gel, his face clean-shaven. The complexion was free of blemishes, smooth and almost a light tan. Brown eyes laughed at her, as he said, "Lucia, is that you? You look beautiful as ever..."

"Good afternoon, Caesar," she glanced up at him. He had put on muscle, which gently stretched the crisp, button-up, creme shirt he wore under that Armani jacket he wore unbuttoned. Long casual Dockers completed the sporty yet dressy outfit, complete with a thick gold chain and Santa Maria medallion just under his shirt. 

"Been a long time, sweetness," he held his arms out to her. She simply shook his hand, giving only a polite smile.

"A semester..." she said.

"I wanted to see you again. Missed you a lot, babe. I know we didn't exactly part friends... but I want to try again..."

"Cesar, that was half a year ago," she shook her head. "I don't think..."

"Babe, give me a chance, please?"

"Cesar," she shook her head. "You were the one that left, remember..."

"I was only joking. I was young, stupid... foolish. I never realized till I lost you what a jerk I was..." 

"What did you want, then?" Lucia asked him, and her eyes fixed firmly into his. He was a bit taken aback at that steely staring in her eyes.

"I wanted... to apologize. Can't we be friends? Hombres? After all we've known each other since middle school... those dances with Our Lady of Perpetual light and St. Sebastian's Boy's academy... for old times sake..."

"You were a jerk..." she shook her head. 

"I've changed. I'm here, and I wanted to apologize. Please babe... I am sorry..." he lowered his voice.

"I want to believe you... really..." she said. "But I just don't think..."

"I want what we had," he whispered, and pulled out a single red rose wrapped in plastic with baby's breath. Oh this wasn't fair! 

"I love you... and I never should have let you go..."

"I've changed... things have changed," she turned from him. That pleading look in his eyes stirred up memories of their first date. Phantom of the Opera. He had taken her on a carriage ride in Central Park, and at midnight he had snapped his fingers, when the driver produced a bouquet of red roses and baby's breath. Then a sumptuous dinner at the Ritz Hotel. They had cuddled and talked till dawn. Each time was like this... till the high school prom...

And then freshmen year, first semester. The first semiformal, he had come to visit, bringing her perfume and a strangely wrapped gift. She recalled the feel of the black silk as he lifted it out. And bade her wear it. How much of his father's money had he spent on this?

Her throat choked, her memories flashing down in quick succession. That rose felt like a hot skewer in her hands as she took it from him. The red wine, then chicken cordon bleu. One thing led to another, and she was pulling that silk teddy off with garters and stockings. Soft sheets, and soft sighs. Her first time of intimate pleasure with him.

Slowly she felt her cheek, feeling the burning of what had happened next. That one fateful day when he'd come, in a huff. Shouts and cries, and a loud sickening crack as the next thing she saw was...

Instinctively her hand went to where her cross was, and closed around gold. A small shield crest, intricately carved moved through her fingers.

"I can't," she said, firmly, pushing the rose back into his hands.

"Why?"

"You always had a temper..."

"I've seen a shrink... trust me..." he whispered. "And I'm on medication... I've stopped the drinking... I swear on my mother's good name..."

"Cesar..."

"Please baby..." he pleaded, and for a second the good spilled overtop the bad. "Can't we be friends?"

"I don't think... that's such a good idea," she shook her head. "There's too much stuff... that's happened."

"Where's your cross, Hon?" he asked, clearly noticing the absence of it as he peered at her scoop necked shirt.

"I... gave it away... to the man I'm seeing," she said.

"I'm... seeing someone..." she said, fingering the crest of Clan Moray.

"Oh? Well... that's great..." he said. "Who is he... I'd like to meet him... tell him how fortunate he is..."

"No Cesar. He's... well..." she stammered, and wondered why she was losing her nerve. Something in his eyes held her captive, and made her insides squirm. She had not said a to him before, except that one time...

Then her eyes noticed the silver pendant just under his shirt. A silver hammer. She cringed... and at that moment wished herself a million miles away.

"The answer is no..." she said. "I... have to go study now..."

"Please..."

"I need... to go..." she said. He stepped before her, and she lightly collided with his solid body. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she lightly pushed away.

"No..." she said. 

"I'm sorry..." he said. "Look, I want to at least be friends... can't you even give me a chance?"

"Please... don't," she breathed, and slipped away from him as she rushed out to the street.

* * *

Flashback, NY 2005. 

"Come on, honey... I know it looks scary..." Fox gripped her son's hand in her gauntleted one.

"No way Mom. It's neat... just like the tunnels in that book..." he shook his head, and glanced with the wonder that only a nine year old could have at the sewer tunnels.

"Which one?"

"The Time Machine, Mom!" Alex rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you haven't ever read that one! Its' a classic..."

"Sorry honey it's been a long time since I've even sat still, let alone read a book for fun..." Fox muttered. Deeper and deeper underground they trudged, Fox in her sleek enhanced Pack armor. Alex wore a similar version, splendid in the same red and gold. It was a miracle they had made it this far. Considering how the Steel Clan had come between them and freedom.

It had been the last straw. Xanatos' corporate takeover and buyout of Cyberbiotics. That company was left solely to Alex, not her, but Xanatos had somehow changed the terms of the agreement. Just how she wasn't sure. She was damned if her husband was going that far. The last nail in a coffin full of affairs, double crossings, and dirty dealings.

"Too bad Uncle Owen isn't here to see it..."

"I know..."

"Is he... going to make it?" asked Alex, looking very vulnerable. Fox choked back the images of Owen, calmly pushing them out of the way towards the spare elevator. Urging them to run while he cut off the safety interlocks. Alex and she recalled his grim face as he opened fire on the advancing Steel Clan. Not even giving them the benefit of a cry of terror as he gave his life so that Alex and she might run free. She glanced back, to see a bullet whiz into his chest, felling him as she covered their retreat with laserfire.

It was a desperate run, grabbing her son and running sometimes, pulling him along at other times. Bravely he kept pace with his enhanced armor. Thank God Owen still had the suits constructed behind David's back for just such an emergency.

"Not far now..."

Floodlights burned into the eyes of the mother and her son. She shielded her face from the glare, and the words of harsh challenge that hung in her ears:

"Ware there!" echoed Talon's voice. "If you bring weapons, they'd better be for Freedom!"

"I'm looking for Thailog!" she called out.

"Fox?" asked a voice, coming out of the shadows. A red mane swirled around her head as the twilight blue figure exited the shadows.

"Demona!" Fox hissed, grabbing her son and thrusting him behind her.

"No... wait. It's all right..." she said.

Thailog's ebony shape emerged next, followed by Brooklyn. Demona wore an odd armor, overtop her usual white halter-top. "It's okay. She's with us," Brooklyn muttered. 

"What..." Fox asked, still holding her son close. The nine-year-old glanced at Demona with inquisitive eyes as her warm smile hit him.

"It would seem... that Demona has found a use for humans after all," said Thailog with wry amusement.

"Keith and Sharon..." Brooklyn added. "They brought her here after she saved Angela...."

"All right..." Fox sighed. "If you say so. But if you so much as look at me cross-eyed..."

"Are you an angel?" Alex walked up to Demona, and glanced at her golden armor.

"Alex," Fox groaned.

"She's got a gold crown... and she's pretty," Alex shook his head.

"That's Demona!" Thailog laughed. "Oh this is rich."

"Maybe, but she's on our side now..." Brooklyn nodded. Was that a look of affection in his eyes?

"Little one, you have nothing to fear from me," Demona leaned over, as Alex looked up to her. "I swear you will be safe here..."

* * *

Present day, Castle Wyvern, 5 PM:

Demona had wandered into the library, clad in a form fitting pair of blue jeans and a sun top that fastened behind her neck. It did not get in the way of her wings, and exposed her shapely abs.

She heard the sounds of Fox reading "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish... Blue Fish..."

Alex squealed in delight. "My turn, mamma!"

Demona smiled, slowly creeping into the library. "Fox..." she said. "Alex..."

"You..." Fox suddenly dropped the book. Alex looked at Demona with wide eyes. "What are you doing in here..."

"Didn't the others tell you..."

"I still have yet to believe them," Fox muttered, moving before Alex as a mother fox comes to protect her cubs. 

"Fox," Demona whispered. "What must I do to convince you I mean no harm?"

"David once had you as a business partner. But you have deceived us before..."

"I know I can't expect you to accept me this time," Demona glanced at her. "But for what it's worth... I am sorry for all the pain that my self in this time has caused you... if only..."

"Demona, I more then anyone want to believe you have changed this time... I was a criminal myself once too."

"I know all about you," she said. "You and I are best friends, since 2005... we fought evil together, and protected your son. I swore to protect him then and that holds true now. You are one of my best friends, Fox..."

"You mean you finally... made peace with humans?"

Fox saw the look of genuine sorrow mingled with pleasure. She desperately wanted to believe Demona in that moment. Yet something still held her back.

"You were one of the first humans I trusted... Fox. You and your son..."

"And what about your... double, in this reality?"

"I want to do what I can to help stop her..."

"And how would you accomplish that?" Fox backed asked, backing away with her son, wary.

"This time line moves somewhat parallel to the other. I might be able to predict where I... Demona would most likely strike your Clan... and stop her. After all, I am she... or was..."

"This time travel is very confusing..." said Fox, shaking her head.

"What's worse is, that Brooklyn and me... were mates. And he hates me now..."

"Yeah. Lex hated me after we first met. I was young, and thrill seeking. Bored to tears. The Pack show was a good outlet for adventure. Till that night Lexington showed up and I really saw the devotion in his eyes. He really looked up to us. And we let him down. It took forever to start over..."

"I take it you two have... made up."

"Yeah. But it was Alex that helped. Maybe..."

"I cannot stand to have Brooklyn hate me. I still love him so much. For years he hated me, mistrusted me. Yet then when I saved Angela from the Steel clan, he saw me in a different light. We soon grew to love each other."

"I thought you and Thailog..."

"Well, let's just say he was more interested in money and the gathering of power then romance. To him... mating was just to breed, and scratch an itch..."

Fox laughed, setting Alex into his playpen. "Typical man!" she laughed. "Sounds like my old man and Thailog should have gone bowling!"

Demona and Fox exchanged a laugh. Slowly the tension melted between them. "By the way, love the new hairstyle..."

"Oh, Got Maria to thank for that," she smiled as Fox admired the new cut, which hung in an attractive bob about her cheeks.

"Maria? As in Maria Chavez, Elisa's boss?" Fox chuckled.

"Yes. We went to this little salon in Little Cuba. The owner gave us the best espresso. Rinse, cut, and highlights for under 34 dollars..."

"Ohh, and I pay 200 bucks for my job!" Fox lamented.

"I could take you there," she offered.

"It's a date!" Fox laughed. "But you and Chavez. Wow!"

"She's really not so bad once you get to know her. And I feel... well... happy. She heard my whole story, and didn't even blink."

"That's something... I guess it's the cop thing," Fox shook her head.

"Yeah," she smiled, and then her expression went dour again. "I just wish I could get through to Brooklyn..."

Fox sighed. "Yeah. It does stink. But what are you going to do about it now?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you were mates... wherever you were from... then what's to stop you from trying over again here?" Fox asked, with a mischievous grin.

"You might want to take her up on that, Mother," said Angela, with a knowing wink.

"Did I hear that right?" Fox asked, and Alex walked over to Angela.

Angela shook her head again, "You look... so much like..."

"Your mother?" Demona asked, holding her arms out to Angela. "I so hope so... my little one..."

Tentatively they embraced, but Angela still flinched. "I... I'm sorry this is so... weird..."

"A parallel continuum," Demona grinned. 

Just then Alex laughed as he ran over to Lexington, who had set a pile of books down. Immediately in Angela's arms, Mona began to quake spasmodically.

"Uncle Lex!" he cried, as Lexington scooped him up. 

"Alex, give me four!" he laughed, whirling him around and then setting him down. They slapped talon to hand. 

Still Demona flinched a bit, backing away from Angela as she beheld Lex. But he was so good with Alex... perhaps...

"Hey, are you okay?" Fox asked. 

"I... Lex and I..." she stammered.

"Mom... he's not the same," Angela gripped Mona's waist. "This isn't your universe..."

"Demona... so I see you've met her..." Lex said, taking Alex's hand and walking him back tot he small group.

"Yes, it's still a shock though..."

"Rachel said that she can sense the differences in the temporal vibrations..."

"Like Sliders," Alex grinned up at his mother. 

"What's wrong with you?" asked Lex, with concern. Mona gripped to her daughter's waist as if she were one of the few anchors in this reality.

"I... I..." she stammered.

"Look, let's clear this up," Fox sighed. "Lex, She was just telling us that she wants to help us stop her twin."

"In my reality... you... were... very different," Demona stammered out to Lex. "I... we... all thought you were destroyed..."

"Destroyed, me?" Lex asked, Alex looking up at both of them with concern.

"Angela, it was the Lex of the dream your Father had... that was based on the reality... I came from!!!"

"You mean Lex was that cyborg villain that..." Angela shook her head.

"I want to help you to prevent a disaster," she said. "That the Lex from my time helped to create..."

"Me... create a disaster, no way!" Lex protested, voice beginning to raise. "_Sooo you're the gargress version of Trunks and I'm the big bad C-17 cyborg, he! Thank you very much!_" 

"Lexington!" Angela cried.

"Look, the fact that she's hear means that this reality... won't be anywhere near the same as hers," Fox put in. "So don't' take what she has to say personally..."

"All right, with your help in weapons... we can kick tail!" Lex laughed.

"No. I won't fight any more...."

"but you said..." Fox protested.

"I will not lift a hand to fight again. I will however give any information, and help you plan whatever moves you must make to counter Demona's plots..." Demona clarified. "I'm tired of fighting..."

"Well That's a start," Lex muttered.

"Since you are really the Demona... from Father's dream... then what horrible things you must have seen..." Angela muttered.

"Everyone I know is dead," Demona looked to her with weariness in her eyes. Fox moved to her side, extending a hand. Demona felt her embrace of support.

* * *

NYU, Canmore Hall, Freshman Dorm, 5:30 PM: 

Lucia rushed into her dorm room, and slammed the door. Her heart pounded a million miles a second. She could still see his eyes looking at her, hungrily. Anxiously she glanced at her watch. Molly would have just missed them there at the coffee shop. Still a hour to go before her meeting with Macbeth.

There came a click, and she jumped. She whirled, seeing someone coming out of the bathroom that interconnected her room and the next.

"What the hell..." she gasped.

"I had to see you. Why did you run away..."

"What are you doing... in my room!" she demanded. Anxiously her mind thought of what she could possibly do. Where could she run.

"I only wanted to talk to you! Is this how you treat your friends..."

"Get out of here this minute, or I'll scream..."

"Oh, and make a fool of yourself? Really, Lu, I didn't think you'd be so dramatic. I only want to talk!"

"And I want you to leave, now!" she shouted back, and grabbed for the mace in her purse.

"What are you doing? Don't be like this..." he advanced on her, silver hammer gleaming as it slipped out of her shirt. He seized her shoulders, struggling to kiss her.

Lucia shot up her knee, planning to slam into his groin, but he twisted, curse him, so she only connected with his stomach. She backed into the closet door, and flung it in his face. Instantly the poster behind the door was revealed:

Goliath offered his hand beneath the words, GARGOYLES ARE OUR FRIENDS, and the PIT Crew logo.

"**You... what the hell is this shit?**" he asked, his eyes on the poster.

"Truth, Cesar! Something you'll never see... with your bigotry!" she spat, and he grabbed her wrist roughly.

"You... a PIT Crew member?"

"Yes!" she cried.

"That wasn't nice... little girl!" he snapped, as she broke away. Her hand found the mace, bringing it to bear. But he smacked it out of her hand, and she rubbed where it had stung.

"I'll have to teach you some manners! Don't you know how the Gargoyle Lovers corrupt you?"

"Get out of here, you Quarryman bastard, or I'll scream!" she threatened, but he put a hand over her mouth, moving lightening fast. His hand gripped her wrist. Suddenly she jerked her hand, pulling out of his grasp as she smacked his face. Desperately she dove for the door, but he slammed it shut, jumping before her.

"You didn't need to do That..." he said.

Lucia glared, bringing her hands up as she backed away, then shot forth as she rammed him with her shoulder, her fist slamming towards his chest. He grabbed her, and she felt a sickening crack against her jaw. The floor hit hard against her.

"Gargoyle-loving bitch! Is this how you treat me? So you like it rough, eh?"

Just then the door clicked open, Molly standing there. "I missed you at the Javastop... What the hell..."

"Molly..." she gasped.

"What are you doing..." she gasped, seeing him reaching for his belt, doubling it over as he raised it to lash her friend.

"This isn't your business..."

A sharp burst of sound slammed into him with the force of a brick wall. Cesar hardly knew what hit him. Followed by a swift smack that sent him reeling. He countered, pushing her out of the way as he rushed out of the room.

Lucia whimpered, huddled on the floor. Nose bleeding, she sobbed. Molly staggered over to her friend, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm gonna call security..."

"No... please don't..." she whimpered.

"The hell I won't!" Molly spat out blood. "He had no right..."

"But... he's a quarryman... I'm already in trouble... if it gets out..."

"Wait here... I'll call the RA, and we'll let them know this happened..."

* * *

Macbeth's Mansion, 7PM: 

Later, she smirched the makeup on over the ugly bruise, and hoped he wouldn't notice. No, she would rather not think of the dirty feelings that squirmed inside her. Thus prepared she climbed out of the cab and moved up to the house. Salt air drifted to her nostrils, the smell of the sea not far from his Long Island home. Her feet couldn't carry her fast enough up the winding path to his place.

The lights had just winked oh, golden against the impending night. Wind quickened, and she raised her knuckles to knock. Yet he was already there, pulling open the door for her. She held in a breath as she saw the velvet smoking jacket and black dress pants he wore. A crisp white shirt, freshly ironed was underneath the burgundy velvet. "Welcome M' love," he extended an arm to her.

Choking she threw herself into his arms, pressing close to him. Her arms latched around the back of his neck, her lips pressing closely to his. It was all she could do to keep from crying as he leaned over to meet her heated kiss, pulling her off her feet as his powerful arms closed around her. How she struggled to drown her sorrows in his firm lip press.

"Mmmm! Verra nice," Macbeth hummed with delight as she withdrew. "What be that for, I wonder?"

"I'm just so glad to be away from that school," she shuddered. "And in your arms again..."

"Ahem," Mrs. Jones coughed discreetly. Both of them looked to her as she watched with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. "Dinner's ready. If you'll come this way..."

"Dinner first, or afterwards?" he asked invitingly. "Will get cold otherwise..."

"Wouldn't want to disappoint her," said Lucia, shivering slightly.

His arm around her waist, he guided her into the lobby. Her long hair was slicked back into a French braid with hair gel, and Molly's ministrations. The blue cardigan was buttoned overtop of a long sundress with a catchy paisley pattern on it. Around her neck hung the pendant with the crest of Moray he'd given her earlier.

They both were seated, he first pulling out a chair for her as she smoothed her skirt under, and he too, the place opposite. It was more formal then some of their dinners, but as lovely as last week at this time when he surprised her with a seven-course meal and she was stuffed!

The server poured wine for Macbeth, and Perrier for Lucia. Fresh salads were put before them, smelling of fresh seasoning. Fine Lennox china, silver, and now soft candlelight. It was all so... perfect. She found herself suddenly thinking about the night she and Cesar...

Somehow her appetite had fled, and all she could do was poke at the salad with her silver fork.

"Ye havenae touched a bite, is everything all right, m'love?" he asked, rich accent music to her ears. Already he was more then ready for the next course, the soup.

"I'm... not very hungry I guess," she was unable to look him in the face, her stomach swimming. "I'm sorry..."

Macbeth's look darkened with concern. This was quite unlike the gentle Lucia he'd come to know. Why was she looking away, as if she was ashamed of something. Even in her short existence of 18 years compared to his one thousand, there were many secrets she must hide. Macbeth did not take any thing for granted. Not even a seemingly normal Hispanic girl with what appeared to be a catholic school upbringing. 

It was those normal, safe environments that harbored the most unusual tendencies.

Immediately he rose from his chair, walking the length of the table to stand by her. His hand rested on her shoulder, gently stroking it. She breathed heavily, as he tilted her chin up to look at him. "Something is wrong, lass," he said, bending over so his face was level with hers. "And I'll be damned if ye dinna tell me what..."

"I'm sorry, I'm ruining your evening!" she stammered, and looked away. "I know you planned this especially for me and I can't eat it and it will all go to waste..."

"Never ye mind about That," he took her hand. "Something's fair near disturbing ye, and I want t' know what it is..."

"We all have our secrets," she responded, unable to find the words to express the tangle of confusion mingled with fear. 

"Come wi me," he said, seeing the fear in her eyes. It tensed her whole frame, making her shake. 

They adjourned to the sitting room, where a fire had been made up. Taking the wine in one hand, and her drink in the other, he set them down. He indicated the love seat near the fire, and took his place beside her. "What's going on, lass... yer no acting yourself. As if you're terrified of something..."

"I saw... someone today. Someone I haven't seen for a long time..."

"An auld friend or acquaintance..."

"Yes," she stammered. "And he... he... he actually had the nerve to ask me..."

"Who was it?" he asked, gripping her hand. 

"An... old boyfriend," she stammered, and a sudden fear came in her face as his eyes momentarily met hers. 

"But nothing happened... honest..."

"Whist ye yer shaking," he took her hand between his, gently stroking it. "I'm the last one t' be jealous. But That's not it, is it? Something yer no telling me, and seeing that gentleman has brought out some fear in ye. Now out wi it..."

"He wanted to be friends. He wanted to be friends after what he did..." she choked out. "And I almost believed him. But then I remembered... I remembered..."

Visibly she flinched, her hand going cold in his. 

"Did he hurt ye?" Macbeth's voice rose in pitch. "_Answer me, lass... what did he do t' ye..."_

"What makes you think..."

"Lass, when ye've lived as long as I have... ye ken the looks of fear. The look of some silent terror moving just beneath the surface. This Cesar hurt you, and yer afraid and ashamed."

"He said he'd changed..."

"I'd believe that when I see it," Macbeth snorted. "But what did he do That's put the fear of God himself into ye? Was he the one that said..."

"Yes... and that was the night he... well... he was coming to visit, and he was a bit angry. We started to yell, and he was telling me I was his girl, and no other man should be near me, and that he heard stories... That I was not true... and he... he... raised his hand, and I told him I was faithful, but he said... and then he... hit me..."

"**He lay his hands on a lass**," Macbeth's gray eyes flushed with anger. 

"He called me a bitch... and said that I was like all the other women. Especially the good little girls. And then he asked if I had liked it... and I screamed and told him to get out. And then next day... he sent me roses, and apologized..."

"He had nae right t' treat ye in such a manner," Macbeth ranted. It was a low tone, filled with anger and outrage. 

"But I had many friends who were boys..."

"That didna give him the right t' lay a hand on ye..." he shook his head, and gripped her shoulders firmly, to glance right into his face. "You deserve far better than That..."

"I know... That... but when I saw him I almost had forgotten. And I thought I had gotten over it... but then I saw that look in his eyes... and I panicked..."

"What is this on yer face," he asked, noticing the oddly discolored patch of makeup on her cheek. 

Lucia shuddered, and realized the makeup doesn't hide the bruise. Macbeth seized her chin and peered at her cheek.

"**Who dared lay a hand on ye?**" Macbeth snapped, his eyes flashing. "This ... Cesar?"

"I... I..." she stammered out. "He... he did... he came into my room, and I told him to leave... and he pleaded, and I pushed him away, and he hit me! If it wasn't for Molly coming in... and screaming at him..."

Her voice trailed off as she fought back angry tears. Low sobs started, and she buried her face in her hands. Strong arms enfolded her, rocking her close as she cried against his shoulder.

"Hush now... let it out m' love," he soothed her, making soft noises while her tears dripped onto his jacket. Gently he pressed a kiss to her forehead, stroking her soft thick hair. For a time he held her, giving her what strength he could. That look of fear and hurt sent him tumbling back several centuries to one he had come to love.

When his beloved Gruoch had been in his arms once more, after the death of Gillcomgain. He had pledged to marry her, a widow, and the ceremony had been a personal triumph.

Yet when he took her up to their wedding chamber, and covered her with soft kisses she flinched, as if she expected him to hit her. Fear filled her eyes, and he suddenly knew the enormity of what Gillcomgain had done. Granted, Lucia's situation was different, but that look of fear and terror did not impact him any less. 

It took hours of holding her close, gently kissing her and stroking her to calm Gruoch down. The damage had been done, but Macbeth was a patient man. It was a week before they finally consummated their marriage, and she at last awakened in his arms, tasting the sweetness of his love that was long denied.

Anger burned, centuries old. This blow was personal, and he was damned if he would let the inflictor get away with it. Gently Macbeth pressed lips to the bruise; half-wishing he could kiss it out of existence. 

Lucia winced, rubbing her sore chin. Tears slipped from behind dark lashes, and he kissed each one away lightly.

"I wish ye had told me," he rocked her gently.

"I... didn't know what to think..."

"Ye know that I wuild understand... or did ye presume I wouldna..."

"I don't know what to think..." she found herself sobbing into his shoulder.

"Yes ye do lass," he said. "And That's the problem that Sassenach had wi ye. He didn't respect ye fer being a lass wi a mind and heart of yer own..."

"You're too good to me," she stammered out.

"Nau dinna go and say That," he shushed her. "Ye deserve t' be treated wi respect..."

"Why did I let him treat me so... for six months I dated him..."

"That is a question I cannae answer. But we all make mistakes. Trust me I have made plenty in nine hundred years. Even that much experience doesnae always prepare an individual to solve the world's problems..."

* * *

Castle Wyvern, 7 PM:

Rachel Vitreum came down to see Maria Chavez patiently waiting in the library. The two friends embraced heartily. "So good to see you, Ria," Rachel smiled.

"Likewise, Ray. I totally forgot about the stone sleep." Maria Chavez grinned sheepishly.

"Not a problem. Say, if I didn't know any better... I'd say you had that look on your face..."

"I met Mona, if That's what you mean..."

"Mona?" Rachel suddenly raised her brow ridges. You did... I mean you talked to her?"

"Rachel, she told me everything..." Maria Chavez took her hand. "That girl... I hate to think of the horrors she has seen..."

"Then... you know..."

"Yeah. I'm worried about her..."

"So am I, but Ria, you never cease to amaze me! I never though you and she..."

"Hey, I met up with you, right, and you're an alien from another planet?" she laughed. "No, I like Mona. She's like a frightened child, even though she's over 1000 years old!"

Rachel's jaw dropped. "How did you know that I was…"

"Come on! Considering the history you and I have. I mean double pulse, low body temperature… long five minute French kisses… especially when we…"

Mortified, Rachel changed the subject at once, "The problem is convincing Elisa Maza... she didn't have a chance to meet with Mona Yet... and somehow she conveniently excused herself last night long before Mona woke up... But where is she now?"

"Talking to her daughter, she said. She wanted me and you to meet her somewhere tonight... some place called the Labyrinth... does that ring a bell?"

"Yes it does..." Rachel said, suddenly getting an odd feeling. "Ria, do me a big favor and bring Elisa. Tell her that you know about Mona, and insist that she come to meet us all at 53rd and Madison. There's a manhole there... and That's where the Labyrinth is..."

"You mean where Elisa's brother..."

"Yes... And Ria, you're one in a million..."

"You always seemed to think so before," Ria grinned as she set off to the Precinct.

* * *

23rd Precinct House, 8 PM: 

Elisa yawned and stretched, before flopping down on the office chair before her computer. "What weirdness happened today," she asked.

Captain Chavez wandered in, and all eyes fell on the efficient police captain as she regarded her detectives.

"I thought you had the day off, Captain," Elisa looked up at her.

"Well, I did. But I'm putting in some extra hours tonight. And Maza, don't forget to check in on your friends to make sure they cleaned up the clock tower before they left!"

"Sorry Captain..." she grinned.

"By the way, something very interesting has gone down with your "friends" at the castle..." Chavez leaned close.

"What do you mean?" Elisa asked.

"Come see me in my office," Chavez instructed.

"Captain..." she wondered as Chavez brought her into the office. Both women found their places on either side of the wooden desk.

"Now, are you aware of the fact that Dominique Destine... has a niece?" Chavez asked.

"What?" Elisa wondered, and felt herself squirming internally. Now that Chavez had met the Gargoyles, it seemed as if anything was possible.

"I just met a very interesting young woman today, when I went to visit Rachel..."

"You were there... during the day?"

"Yes, and estupido! I forgot they were in stone sleep. But I met a young woman called Mona. And she had a most interesting story..."

"Mona... you mean you met... oh God..." Elisa gasped.

"I thought you would think so. Do you have any idea about this Maza?"

"Yes but I didn't get the chance to... you mean you spoke to her?"

"Spent the whole day with her, Elisa," Chavez folded her arms and rested her head on them. "That is one distraught young woman. The horrors she described..."

"She would say anything," Elisa breathed. "We still didn't know..."

"I believe her, Maza," Chavez looked very seriously at Elisa with those green eyes.

"How can you... I mean Goliath said to let her prove herself, but you don't know what she's capable of! It's Demona... the same gargoyle who changed Rachel into one..."

"I know about That too," Chavez snorted. "Elisa, I'm your Captain, your commanding officer. Your family and mine have known each other for years. You could have trusted me with this!"

"Captain... please..." Elisa protested. "The Gargoyles were in danger I... Look, Captain, you have to admit Gargoyles weren't exactly on everyone's hit list last year!"

"I know That Maza, but we are to protect and serve. Everyone is innocent till proven guilty. And Mona desperately wants to make her peace with everyone. Which is why I want you to come with me... to meet her yourself..."

"I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Maria Chavez said firmly. "And that's an order!"

* * *

__

Somewhere over Manhattan, 9PM: 

"Catch me if you can!" Angela shouted to Mona, who winged after her.

"This was a wonderful idea!" Mona called to Rachel. "It feels wonderful to get out into the air again..."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Angela called back to Rachel, who was tethered to Mona by a climbing rope.

"I see no reason to keep her cooped up at the Castle when there is a whole world for her to see," Rachel said. "And you only had a small taste of it with Maria..."

"I should have told you she came..." said Mona.

"Yes, but she and I did have a good talk afterwards. She's bringing Elisa to meet us..."

"Elisa Maza?" Mona said, hopeful. "Good!"

Just then Angela tensed, pointing below. "Gals, I think we have a problem..."

"Quarryman!" Rachel hissed, her eyes growing narrow. 

"We gotta stop them before they hurt that young woman!" Angela cried, and brought her wings close to her body.

"Angela, Daughter, wait!" Mona cried, but Angela had already pitched into a power dive. Snarling, she threw herself on the nearest quarryman.

Rachel and Mona landed on the next, cuffing their hammers aside. With interest Rachel noticed Mona's fighting style was very passive, almost Tai Chi. She did not hit, but mercilessly pinched the nerve clusters in the backs of two of the Quarrymen's necks. They gurgled to unconsciousness.

The two cloaked figures looked at them thankfully. Angela walked up to the smaller of the two.

"Are you okay?"

"Angela, good thing you showed up," Maggie's yellow eyes shone.

"What are you two doing up here?" Rachel asked. "The Quarrymen... your baby..."

"Talon's with him. Someone needed to get milk for the children, and pick up the antibiotics..."

"Why not send one of your Helpers?" Rachel asked. Maggie suddenly lay eyes on Mona, and gasped.

"What is... she doing here?"

"It's okay!" Angela said. "That's Mona. She's good. I swear..."

"Are you sure..." Maggie backed away, her fur bristling. Electricity crackled through her claws.

"Yes, I swear," Rachel nodded.

"But you shouldn't be out here... it's not safe," Mona put in, going up to Maggie. "Your son..."

"How did you know I had..."

"Why were you up here along?" asked Angela.

"A sickness has come over the human refugees. They are too ill to help themselves. We were immune... but weren't sure where to go for help..."

"You should have had Talon tell Elisa..." Angela chided.

"He had to stay to help. Ohh and Maria and Elisa are about to come to join us!"

"Someone should tell Xanatos," Rachel said.

"I know something about medicine," Mona said. "I might be able to help. There were many diseases I have encountered over the years... and there were few doctors to help a gargress. So I had to learn to treat myself many years... as well as humans That I knew..."

"Come this way," she said. Angela took Mona's hand as Rachel leapt onto the nearest building and climbed to find a thermal. Hooking her rope, she fired a shot at the nearest building. Her dark shape swung to the next, and the next. Rachel had that odd tingling feeling in her scalp again, as if she felt the time lines converging and shifting. That look of familiarity in Mona's face mirrored her own sometimes. Whenever there was an event in history with which she was intimately connected, and knew she had a special role to play to hold up the threads of fate. Just how much should she let Mona help and change? If these two realities were parallel, how much would benefit from Mona's changes, and how much would be harmed?

They came to a manhole, and Angela lifted it aside. All three dropped, one after the other. Into utter darkness they walked for a time. Mona shivered, remembering the first time she had come here. Granted there were some improvements, but That same stench and damp hung in the subterranean passage.

Till they came upon a distant radiance. Maggie gave a yowling noise, and they were bathed in bright floodlights. A loud panther snarl sounded, as gold eyes flickered in the dark. 

"Maggie! Glad you came back... who is..."

"Talon, this is not what you think," Angela put herself between Talon and Mona. "This is Mona... my mother... and a friend..."

"Friend?" Talon asked, a bit taken aback.

"It's a long story. But I want to help...."

"Angela?" Talon glanced at her. This would be a long story indeed.

"You are under threat of a disease, caused by Dr. Sevarious!" Mona blurted out. "If you don't act soon, your friends will die!"

"Dr. Sevarious?" Talon asked.

* * *

To Be Continued: 


	3. Nepharyn plague

  
Disclaimer: The characters of Gargoyles belong to Buena Vista Television, Disney, inc. This is a work of fanfiction, and is being written without consent or knowledge of the aforementioned company. Lucia Dominguez, Keith Polasky, Sharon Lewis, Cesar Ramierez, and Rachel Vitreum are my characters. Lina and Maya are Denis DePlaen's, and are concepts used with his consent for this story. Any mentions of Time Lords or Dr. Who are property of BBC and are used out of fun for a great sf series. 

Rated PG13 for some language and mature situations. 

****

Last Rest Denied 

****

Part 3: Hot Zones 

Written by: Trynia Merin 

Synopsis by Malkavien@lft.be 

* * *

"Care to explain what the hell is going on here?" Talon asked no one in particular. 

Mona sniffed the air curiously. "Can I see the victims? I might be able to help..." 

"What can you do?" Talon asked 

"Please, let her help," Rachel said. "She might have a unique perspective on the disease..." 

"What are the symptoms," Mona asked as she moved up to Talon and Rachel. 

"Pallid skin, rashes..." Maggie ticked off on her fingers. "They just keep dropping like flies..." 

Angela also followed, a bit surprised at how quickly Mona was taking charge. Talon stormed after her, still demanding an explanation. A mass of convulsing crowd shuddered. Rashes spread over white and tanned skin. Moans rose up in a collective din as the small group entered the main chamber. Jaws clenched and unclenched spasmodically, muffling the chorus of pain. 

"Let her try," Angela gripped his arm as Maggie showed Mona the makeshift infirmary, down one side passage. A number of cots and mattresses had been set up, with nearly the whole floor covered with the ill. 

Mona leaned down by one woman, who glanced up at her with frightened eyes. "Shh, it's okay," Mona whispered, carefully glancing into her eyes and examining the skin. The woman trembled, her jaw clenched spasmodically. A frown came over her face. 

"How long has this been going on?" she turned to Talon, who stood near her with hands on his hips. 

"About the last two days..." he shrugged. "But that doesn't explain why the hell..." 

"Nepharyn 4," she whispered. "Toxic, deadly to humans. Smells like apples..." 

"What?" Maggie asked. 

"Nepharyn 4?" Rachel frowned. "Mona, are you certain?" 

"Yes..." 

"It looks like tetanus to me," Talon snorted. 

"Then how would you account for the odor?" Mona whirled on him. 

"Whatever. But if they die, you're responsible!" Talon pointed. He stormed off towards a side chamber, for two figures had suddenly moved into the throng, an Indian man, thin boned with a plump black woman at his side. They moved to Talon, embracing him. Mona and Rachel began to look at the other victims. The more she examined, the more concerned she got. 

"What is she doing here!" Elisa Maza suddenly snapped. She had just come in, with Maria Chavez. 

"Exactly why I want you..." 

"Mom, Dad... Derek?" Elisa rushed up to them. "What are you doing here?" 

"Get them out of here, this instant!" Mona cried, rushing up to Elisa and Maria. "This disease is..." 

"Who is that..." Diane and Peter Maza turned from their Son, seeing the female gargoyle rushing up to them. 

"Mona..." Chavez got out as the gargress approached them. 

"You have to get them out of here! This disease is lethal to humans..." Mona shouted. "This place must be sealed off at once..." 

"Elisa, who is that, and what is..." Diane got out as she suddenly dropped the stack of blankets she was carrying. Suddenly she started to cough, and convulse, dropping to the floor. 

"Mom!" Derek and Elisa shouted, as she collapsed. 

"Let me through!" Mona pushed past them. Elisa blocked her, but Chavez pulled her aside, as Rachel restrained Talon. Mona dropped to Diane's side, quickly looking her over. Diane's hands clamped on her throat as she began to convulse. 

Grimly Peter Maza gripped his wife, sweat on his hands as he cried, "Diane! Can you talk... say something..." 

Her face flushed blue, and Peter desperately tried to lay her flat. Mona helped pushed her down, clearing her air passage. "She's not breathing!" Peter shouted. 

"Get me some epinephrine, now!" Mona shouted. Maggie scuttled off quickly to the medicine cabinet. 

"Diane, hold on!" cried Peter, steadying her as Mona listened. 

"No breathing," she whispered, and tipped Diane's head back. Inhaling deeply she gave a rapid breath. Peter clamped to find a pulse. 

"No pulse!" he gasped. 

"Start CPR!" Mona muttered, and continued to breathe. Peter didn't even stop to think that this was an inhuman gargress. He crossed his fingers, feverishly pressing down on his wife's chest. 

"Mom... get away from her!" shouted Elisa. 

"Shut up!" Chavez hissed. "She's saving her life..." 

"Let me go!" Talon shouted. Then Maria Chavez looked at him peculiarly. 

"Derek, is that you?" she asked. 

"Yes... I mean no... I mean that's not important now, my mother's dying..." he snapped. 

"She's saving her life!" Chavez repeated, and then looked at him in shock. "What the hell happened to you?" 

"Dr. Sevarious," he growled. 

"Captain... are you just going to stand there and..." Elisa cried. 

"Maza, shut up, and that's an order. And you, Talon, Derek... where is that epinephrine..." 

"Right here!" Maggie rushed up, giving it to Mona. 

"Take over," Mona shouted to Talon. He stopped at his mother's side, taking over the rescue breathing automatically. Elisa stood numbly to one side, Maria's hand on her shoulder. 

"Get them out of here!" Mona shouted. "It's not safe for humans! And someone get some isolation suits and seal this place off pronto! Call Xanatos!" 

"I'll do that right now!" Angela nodded, and rushed towards a phone. 

"Come on!" Rachel pulled Elisa and Peter Maza away. They were put into a side room, which was separated from the main chamber by a glass barrier. 

Diane coughed, glancing up into the faces of the gargress and her son. Elisa turned as she fought against Rachel, who struggled to push her and her father away. 

"Captain!" shouted Elisa, as Peter Maza pulled his daughter away. The rest of the hour faded into a blur as Mona and Derek worked over her mother. 

Meanwhile, Mona slipped up Diane's shirt. Quickly she inserted the needle into Diane's chest, right between the breastbone and two ribs. Her taloned thumb did not shake as she pressed the plunger home. Talon continued to give rescue breathing to his mother, as Maggie moved in to continue the chest compressions. Angela had reached Fox at the castle by now, and Chavez was anxiously waiting nearby as Rachel moved to seal off the room with plastic draperies. 

"Ria you shouldn't be down here..." said Rachel as Chavez helped her to fix the next set of seals. All the air had to be pumped out. Steel Clan robots already tromped in, laying their medical supplies down. Huge plastic draperies and a stack of suits were slowly accumulating. 

"I know... but you need all the help you can get..." said Maria. "And don't you think it's weird that I haven't been affected, while Diane and Peter have?" 

"You only just got here..." 

"Ray, I've been here for fifteen minutes, and I'm fine..." she said. Elisa and Peter were waiting tensely in the small side room, while Maggie had pumped them full of epinephrine. Already Elisa and Peter were starting to convulse. Only the injections had calmed them enough so they could watch Mona's ministrations on Diane. Who was now laying on a cot, breathing. Talon pulled up an oxygen tank, securing the mask over his mother's face. Mona continued to check her pulse, wiping sweat from her crested brow. Odd, that look in her eyes was nothing but pure concern. 

"I need a centrifuge, and a blood sample. I've got to make an isolation of the antigens in my own blood, and try and make an extract..." 

"But you're a gargoyle!" 

"Nepharyn 4 is a toxic gas, that mimics Ebola and Tetanus. It's a nerve gas, and all I need to do is isolate the agents from my blood..." 

"It's too risky!" he snapped. 

Chavez moved over, leaning at them. 

"Maria, you shouldn't be in here without a suit!" Mona scolded her. 

"I think I have your source of serum," said Rachel. "She's been in contact with the Nepharyn 4 for half an hour and she's still all right..." 

"Why is that?" Talon demanded. "And why aren't we affected?" 

"Nepharyn is ineffective against Gargoyles and Sevarious mutates," said Mona. "Now get me a syringe..." 

"Already here," Rachel handed her a plastic wrapped one, her claws already wrapped in rubber gloves. 

"Still I think it's better Ria, if you take some epinephrine ASAP," said Mona to her. She nodded, as Mona prepared a shot. Rachel fixed up the syringe, rubbing Mona's inner elbow as she plunged in the syringe, and pulled out a sample. Shortly she did the same for Chavez, the red blood seeping quickly into the demarcated lines. 

"I hate shots..." Maria muttered, as Mona thrust a needle into her upper shoulder quickly. "But since you're taking stuff out..." 

"Got it," Rachel quickly took both tubes, and rushed off to the makeshift laboratory further down. Plastic rustled distantly as she entered the airlock. 

"Now, get out of here, pronto," Mona pleaded. "There's no good in you becoming affected..." 

"I've always been a quick healer," Chavez remarked, and then felt a bit dizzy. 

"The Nepharyn might not affect you now, but it will in time... you are only human after all," Maggie pleaded, and helped her friend into the room where Elisa and Peter were sequestered. 

"By the way," Talon gruffly muttered to Mona. 

"What?" 

"Thanks." 

"No problem. But it remains to be seen if this will help." 

"She wouldn't be alive now if you didn't," Talon folded his arms. "But it had better work..." 

"For everyone's sake," Mona nodded, glancing up at him. 

* * *

Mrs. Jones admitted the Latino woman in. "She is here... Mrs. Florez. I assume you got her phone call..." 

"You bet I did! Puercos!" Spat Maya. "So where is she..." 

"In the library studying..." 

"Good. At least your employer has the good sense t' keep her nose in the books. Speaking of... is he in?" 

"As a matter of fact...." 

"Mrs. Jones... who is it?" came a Scottish accented voice from the side room. Lennox MacDuff strode in casually, comfortably dressed in his usual academic outfit. 

"Signora, a pleasure as always. Dinna worry... she's all right..." 

"That's what I wanted to know. What happened..." 

"Right this way..." Macbeth said. Then turned to Mrs. Jones. "Could you bring my evening coffee into the drawing room this time? Make it for two..." 

"Certainly, Mr. MacDuff..." 

As he led her in, he noticed her glancing up at the stained glass window thoughtfully. Macbeth was beginning to wonder if that was more trouble then it was worth! 

"Quite a place you have, Senior," she turned to look at him when they sat down. 

"It's been my home for quite some time..." 

"So who was it... and what was it. The details..." 

"Cesar Ramierez," said Macbeth slowly. A dark look crept into Maya's face. 

"Caramba! I told her that the boy was nothing but trouble! Just like his father, and grandfather." 

"Cesar family? why do they all bring trouble." 

"And the death of old friends of mine, killed during their stone sleep, back in Cuba..." 

"You knew the Havana Clan?!" Macbeth gasped. For a moment his steely grey eyes widened in shock. They stared at Maya, struggling for recognition. What was it about her that seemed so damned familiar? 

"As you did yourself and Rachel, amigo." Maya finally said. A twinkle came into her eyes when she saw Macbeth's battle to remember an elusive wisp of memory. 

"Pica?!? is that ye, lass?!" Macbeth suddenly asked. It all made sense now! 

"In the flesh, Mac..." she laughed. "Been a long time..." 

"I scarcely believed it was you..." he gasped, taking her hand. "Tis been nearly fifty years!" 

"And you aren't a day older, are you, Lennox MacDuff?" she asked with a knowing wink. 

"Well er..." he fumbled. 

"Or should I say, Lennox MacLaren? Or Macbeth?" 

"Point taken," he nodded. Mrs. Jones quietly brought coffee in, and set the tray before them. 

"That's fine, Mrs. Jones. Could ye see we are not disturbed for quite a while?" he waved her with a smile. 

"Of course sir. But what about Miss Dominguez?" 

"Make sure she has what she needs t' be comfortable. I'll check on her myself straight away." 

"Certainly." 

"As a matter of fact, why don't you go ahead and go home for the night. I'm quite fine as it is..." 

"Thank you!" Mrs. Jones said, a bit surprised. "But Mrs. Florez..." 

"Is more then welcome to stay as well," he nodded. 

"I'll get another room ready before I leave then sir?" 

Both friends soon tucked into the shortbread and fruitcake his housekeeper had brought. The hot coffee washed each bite down between words of conversation. 

"But what ever happened to Rachel?" Maya asked him later. 

"We... parted on rather odd terms. She.. vanished without a trace in a plane accident... and I thought for certain I would never see her again. I had... lost hope that she would ever be found alive. But then... she returned about three years ago, as a professor of geology in San Francisco." 

"But aren't you two professor at the same University now?" 

"Aye. But I had gotten on with my life, and so had she. The feelings were still there, but I had come to know that she had suffered her own loses... and things could never be the same..." 

She sighed. "Ah, what a shame. But Lucia is quite taken with you now, isn't she?" 

"I have deep affection for your niece," Lennox said softly. Grey eyes softened as they regarded Maya. 

"I can see that. So you fancy her, eh?" 

"Indeed I do," Macbeth admitted. "She is an extraordinary young woman. You should be most proud of her." 

"And you see yourself going on to the next level... in this... relationship?" 

"I assure you my intentions are purely honorable," Macbeth reiterated, sipping his coffee slowly. 

"Mm hmm," Maya nodded. "So where is she now?" 

"Resting," Macbeth said. "This way..." 

* * *

Lucia buried her face in the pillow, sobbing even when Macbeth had carried her gently upstairs. He had lain next to her for close to an hour, kissing away her doubts. Till at long last she fell fast asleep, and he left her to sleep off her ordeal. 

Now that Maya had come, Macbeth thought it best to risk waking her. Slowly he strode into the room, its ornate furniture shadowed in cool darkness. It was not the Master bedroom, but a smaller nicely furnished guestroom with a full bed instead of a king. 

"Lucia, m'dear," he whispered, leaning over her on the bed as Maya joined him. Gently he brushed a hand through her dark locks, stroking softly as he lay a kiss on the back of her neck. She still wore the long skirt and floral blouse she'd gone to campus in, her platform sandals on the floor by the bed. 

"Mmn," she moaned, shaking her mass of curls as she turned over. Macbeth pressed a kiss to her lips gently. 

"It's all right. Yer safe here. And ye have a visitor..." 

"Chia," Maya whispered, leaning over Macbeth's shoulder. "I'm here..." 

"Aunt Maya," she gasped. Panic filled her face when she sat up abruptly. 

"I heard all about what that bastard did. And I swear he won't get away with it!" Maya gritted her teeth. She noticed the nasty bruise on her niece's cheek, and the bruise marks that swelled on her caramel flesh, where Cesar had grabbed her arms fiercely. 

"Auntie no!" she shivered. Macbeth held her gently, as she trembled against his chest. 

"This is war," Maya glared. "You must tell Maria..." 

"But the police already know," said Lucia. "Molly told them..." 

"That's something," Maya snorted. 

"But if Aunt Maria knows... she'll stop at nothing..." Lucia stammered. 

"Exactly. It's time those Puercos get what they deserve." 

"I am sure Captain Chavez will do her utmost to help," said Macbeth, looking at her carefully. "If I know her..." 

"You know?" Maya looked at him. 

"Yes," he nodded. 

"I don't want to be the cause of more violence," Lucia snapped. Macbeth's grip tightened around her. 

"We must fight this," Maya nodded. Macbeth shared her steely defiance. 

"I'm so tired of the fighting," Lucia cried. "First Carlos, then Keith and Sharon almost go... then Rachel... and now... me..." 

"Sleep m'love," he whispered, hushing her. "Jest sleep. It'll all be look a sight better in the morning..." 

* * *

Laying on a cot, Chavez glanced out at Mona, who continued to inject the fallen victims. Yawning, she climbed to her feet. Slowly she kicked off the high-heeled shoes, slipping her feet into the cheap disposable slippers that had come with the hospital gowns and other various supplies provided by Xanatos. Elisa slept fitfully, near Peter Maza. Rachel tirelessly schlepped tray after tray of the anti nerve gas serum. 

The last few hours vanished into the tune of whirring centrifuges, clanking test tubes, and silent whispers of injection plungers. Walking up to her friend, Maria gripped her shoulder. 

"You okay Ray? You're looking a little rough around the edges... let me take over..." 

"Ria, I'm glad you're still all right..." 

"No worse for wear. But Mona..." 

"Is a real trooper, as you'd say." 

"Let me help with this round..." Maria offered, and followed her friend out into the main infirmary. 

"Nice footwear, Ria," Rachel pointed to her slippers. 

"Oh, the latest down here... and less murder on the feet then my pumps. But look, there's something I've been wondering about. Why haven't I been affected?" 

"I have a few ideas about that," Rachel muttered. 

"Ray, Ria," Mona sighed, as she saw her friends beginning the next round of injections. "Good... how many more..." 

"Twelve more in the last few hours. Talon's bringing them all in here..." 

"So this Nepharyn 4, you know all about it," Rachel muttered. "Strange thing, since I only knew it existed in 2145, Mars Colony, when the Free Earth society used it to attempt a hostile takeover of Lowell City..." 

"It did exist... in 2020," said Mona. "Which makes me wonder why it was here and now..." 

"Yes," Chavez nodded. "Is it possible it could have been invented and you didn't know about it?" 

"No. Dr. Sevarious had just developed it when it hit the Labyrinth..." 

"Isn't it funny that it just suddenly hits when you showed up?" Chavez asked, her cop instincts kicking in. "I mean you only just arrived yesterday..." 

"Oh shit," Mona muttered. 

"You're not thinking what I think you are?" Rachel asked. 

"Dr. Sevarious..." Chavez asked. "In this... time... could he have developed this nerve gas earlier maybe..." 

"No... impossible..." Mona muttered. 

"Unless..." Rachel muttered, her eyes widening in horror. Mona shared her look. 

"Wait a minute, you don't think that..." Chavez picked up on their meaning. 

* * *

Turning over, she struggled once again to wrap herself in sleep. No end of weird dreams paraded through her head, those last memories of prom night reforming. Black silk upon caramel skin whispered under his fingers. His words were soft and gentle coaxing. A hushed cry sounded from her lips, which was followed by a shout of pain as he thrust home. He did not let her adjust to his size and stiffness. That strange excitement built up and spilled over as tears slipped from her cheeks. Grunting, he moved off and asked her why she was crying. 

"Hey you, don't cry! That's not allowed!" 

"It was so... so..." 

"Come on now, girl! You really are a virgin! What do I have t' do, make ya sleep with a hundred other guys before I break ya in?" 

His words were said in jest, but they stung. She flinched and pulled away. 

"Now look, you are gonna want this, so make it worth both our whiles okay..." 

"You want me to sleep with others?" she snapped. "Other men? Like some kind of whore?" 

"Don't even catch me seeing you think about being with another man," he snapped. 

"Cesar I didn't mean..." she stammered. 

"You're my girl, okay?" Cesar continued, and his voice rose steadily in pitch and volume. 

"But Cesar... why did you say if you didn't mean it..." she started to cry. Anger broiled over his sweating face as Cesar raised his hand high. Hot tears spurting down her cheeks, she pushed him away. 

"Hey now... I was only joking," he flubbed, and roughly grabbed her shoulder. "Look, you got no sense of humor... I didn't' mean it..." 

"You didn't? But why did you say it then?" 

"You're just tired. Let's just get some sleep now..." 

Tears formed on her cheeks, and at that moment she wished she was anywhere but by his side. Even as he lay with his back to hers, butt pressed up against hers she flinched away. Till somewhere in sleep he pulled her roughly to himself with his arms wound possessively around her. Mingled comfort and sickness welled up in her stomach. Only now did she realize why. The next time or the next after that she had thought nothing serious would explode, till that time he had raised his hand... 

"Bitch, how dare you look at another man!" 

"I didn't do anything! Carlos and I... we were just talking..." 

"You don't talk to other men, you don't look at them! You're mine!" 

"I don't belong to you! I'm not a jacket or a wallet or a car, damn you!" she screamed. "Why are you doing this! I didn't mean..." 

"Liar!" he hollered. A sickening smack crossed her face, and she landed with a thump on the bed, her tears smarting hot out of her eyes. 

"I'm not a liar!" she screamed. Suddenly she felt her face flush hot with anger. His scowl, and that laugh grated her ears. Something inside her exploded that had not be let loose before this. How dare he! 

"You're the one with the problem!" she screamed, and threw herself on him, nails raking against his face. 

"I did nothing! Nothing!" 

Lucia felt herself surfacing out of what seemed a black pit. Her fist slammed against wood, the pain spreading into her hands. 

"Bastard!" she screamed. "How dare you! How dare you!" 

Realization hit as her eyes took in the blur of morning dawn. Here she was, in a queen-sized bed, legs tangled in sheets. Silk clung to her sweaty body like a second skin, and she almost lost her balance as she landed into thick soft pillows again. Her knuckles throbbed, and then she realized she had hit the ornate headboard. Sense tumbled in. She was safe, far away from him and his slaps and accusations. 

Wait, she had not remembered that right? If only she had hit him back... scratched out those leering eyes that reproached her, would he have stopped? What if she had squeezed that accusing throat which only uttered lies? When his stinging slaps and hurtful words had seared her, why didn't she fight back? 

"Why didn't I fight back?" she asked, voice a frightened sob as she curled up on the bed. "Why?" 

* * *

"You mean to say that Dr. Sevarious... your Doctor Sevarious... might be here in this timeline also?" Maria asked. 

Rachel moaned. "Great Rassilon this was enough of a headache..." 

"Wait, can't this world's Sevarious have invented the gas yet?" Maria suggested. 

Rachel shook her head, "Nope. It would involve nanotechnology more advanced than the Matrix is, which is currently the top." 

Mona sighed, and then felt the odd changes coming over her. She winced, her face contorting in pain. Inside it felt as if she were being ripped apart. "Ahh... ergg..." 

"Mona..." Maria gripped her arm. 

"It's... all right..." she gasped, inhaling as the pain subsided. Before their eyes, her skin flushed pink, the wings shrinking like deflating balloons as they retreated under her halter-top. High arched feet twisted back into human ones, with five toes. Extra fingers sprouted from her hands, as they were human again. 

"I'm okay really," she assured them. 

"Madre de Dios you have to go through that every day?" Maria asked, holding her hand tightly. 

"Yes. I'm used to it by now..." 

"So Sevarious... your Sevarious is here then," Rachel reiterated. 

"Damn..." 

"I hate to think of what he's got planned. But how did he escape, if you say my universe was destroyed... unless Lexington used that dimensional teleporter..." 

"Dimensional teleporter," Rachel muttered. "This is even worse then I thought... dammit!" 

"So you mean there are more doubles out there?" Maria scratched her head. "Damn is right!" 

"I am sorry... I may have well endangered us all..." Mona shook her head. 

"Chica, you couldn't have planned everything," Maria rubbed her back. "Stop taking the weight of this world on your shoulders..." 

"She's right," Rachel nodded. "Last time I tried that I almost had a nervous breakdown..." 

"Ray, why am I immune, if Dr. Sevarious hadn't invented this gas yet?" Maria asked. 

"Good question," Mona also glanced at Rachel, who coughed. 

"Well... it's rather... complicated..." Rachel coughed. 

"Ray, you shouldn't be ashamed," Maria scolded her. "Mona's a friend." 

"Wait... were you two... involved?" Mona asked, a mischievous smile on her face. 

"Many moons ago, ancient history," Ray coughed. 

"Oh, you stinker," Mona nudged Maria, who was smiling broadly. 

"Don't tell me you're ashamed of what we had," Maria whacked Ray on the knee. 

"Not at all I just didn't know if Mona here was into that sort of thing..." 

"Come on I've been alive for a thousand years!" Mona groaned. "I've seen everything! It would explain why you're' immune, Maria..." 

"It wasn't what you think of automatically..." Rachel coughed. "It has to do with a blood transfusion, I gave her... a few years back..." 

"You mean when I had that gunshot wound... when I made Detective Sergeant?" Chavez asked. "Ray here donated two pints of blood. I've got a rare type, AB-... and Ray here was the only donor available..." 

"I was reluctant, for I'm not exactly human," said Rachel. "Not that I wouldn't give anything to help Ria... but I was afraid certain questions would be asked. You see, Time Lord blood has many similarities to human blood, but transfusions tend to alter the body chemistry of the recipient. Ria... that would explain why you're immune to Nepharyn 4. Your immune system is centuries advanced compared to other humans." 

"Why?" Chavez asked. 

"Time Lord DNA has coding for regeneration. Our bodies are capable of entering a coma that enables healing. Also we can sustain great damage to our bodies, above and beyond Human capabilities." 

"So you mean I have your blood..." Chavez asked. 

"Holy..." Mona muttered. 

"Which means Ria, you could well live a rather longer life then you'd been expecting..." 

"How long?" Chavez asked. 

"Two hundred years... at least," Rachel hung her head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you... but I wasn't sure of the impact of human and Timelord blood transfusions..." 

"Holy shit," Chavez muttered, the reality of Rachel's words sinking in. "I will... be around for a while then..." 

"You make it seem like a bad thing," Rachel said, gripping Chavez' knee. 

"Well I guess you'll have to put up with me for another 2 centuries," Chavez shook her head. 

"Speaking of which, why haven't you turned to stone?" Maria Chavez asked Rachel, who looked at them both oddly. 

"I... don't know..." Rachel glanced at them both, in shock. 

* * *

"Lass?" someone shook her shoulder. Sleep passed away again from her like a curtain. All around her the morning hues painted the room a soft white and pink. "Lucia?" 

"Lennox?" she stammered, turning over to face him. Tear swollen eyes looked into his soft steely gaze. 

"Whist ye have ye been crying yet again?" he asked. The bed shifted while Lennox sat on the edge of it. Reassuringly his hip brushed against her blanketed one. 

"I'm sorry I can't stop..." she glanced. 

"What are ye apologizing for?" he asked, slipping a hand over her cheek as she looked away. "There's na need for it... trust me..." 

"If only I had fought back whenever he hit me..." she threw off his gentle touch, burying her face in the pillow. "Why did I just sit there and let him..." 

"Lucia, it wasn't yer fault," he said. "Dinnae dare think it was! If anyone is at fault it is he. He's the one with the problem! By nature or nurture he learned that hitting women was socially acceptable, even though God knows he has nae right!" 

"Why don't I believe it... I want to but yet I keep thinking if I had said something differently... or done something differently..." 

"Yer safe nau," Lennox stroked her back. Again the bed shifted when he lay down next to her and embraced her from behind. 

"Why didn't I hit him back? I could have... for Pete's sake! But I just sat there like a coward... and let him hit me!" 

"Don't even say such things, my love," Lennox shushed her. "You had nae warning of what he was to do. Trust me when I say yer no coward, but a very brave lass for recognizing that it was a bad relationship." 

"He's still there..." she stammered. "When I go back... I'll have to face him... eventually..." 

"You have nothing to fear from him as long as I have anything to say about it..." 

"I feel awful getting you involved in this..." Lucia sobbed against him. "Your academic career could be at stake! There's no telling what lengths those bastards will go to to ruin you! If they find out that I'm here... there's no telling what scandal! I should have never..." 

"Lucia, look at me," Lennox gripped her chin. She whimpered, not able to meet her gaze with his. 

"Lennox... it's my fault..." 

"Please... look me in the face... lass..." he urged, tilting her chin so her eyes fixed into his. "If ye need t' remain here for a few days, you're more then welcome, till you determine what course of action to take..." 

"But I can't just hide here, when he's there. Getting away with this!" 

Lucia gripped Macbeth's hand. 

"Och lass ye need time t' gather yer strength..." he shook his head. Still he fingered her chin gently. 

"Even if I do stay, I feel like I'm running away from my problems..." Lucia sighed. 

"The decision to remain or take your leave is yours, and I trust your judgment. But remember you are not alone in this predicament. I doubt sincerely this Cesar will stop his foolishness..." 

"I don't know what to do, Lennox," she glanced at him. "Part of me wants to stay here, and forget it ever happened. But the dreams just keep coming. I find myself asking a million times why I didn't just leave him..." 

"Ye should be proud of yourself for leaving him when you did. You showed maturity and wisdom by removing yourself from a detrimental relationship, when many lasses your age might have persisted." 

"I know that, Lennox," she sighed, as he wrapped her in his arms. Still, he lay beside her on the bed, her chest pressed up against him. Only the blanket separated her from him. Strange how he was fully clothed, and she was in her nightgown. "But it doesn't help me feel that much better. I just wish I had done something... that I didn't feel so helpless now." 

"Perhaps I can remedy the situation," he smiled mischievously. 

"You've already done so much..." she sighed, kissing him gently before his ear. Lightly she ran her tongue along the outside, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from him. 

"Well, That wasn't what I was going to suggest, even though I'm perfectly willing to..." he sighed. "But after all, you are her niece, and both guests in my home..." 

"What did you have in mind?" 

"Self defense," Macbeth said. "So no one will dare lay a hand on you again..." 

"Really? You would! Oh you're wonderful!" she seized his face and planted a firm kiss. He deepened her gesture slowly, deliciously moving his mouth over hers. It was the first time in so many hours she had not flinched at his touch. Even though she knew he meant no harm, the trauma of Cesar's visits had unleashed a slew of bad memories. 

"Won't my aunt... wonder why you're not down there eating breakfast by now?" she laughed when they pulled apart to breathe. 

"I had best see that yer aunt is enjoying her repast..." Macbeth reluctantly pulled out of her embrace. "And that there is indeed some left for us..." 

"Hmm," she laughed. "I'll be right down!" 

* * *

"Mona!" Chavez gasped, as her friend suddenly began to convulse. "Ray! Something's happened to Mona!" 

"Damn it!" Ray spat out, resorting to a very human expletive. "I should have foreseen this!" 

A rash began to spread over Demona's face, flushing it an ashy tinge. She wheezed, her heart pounding fast in her chest. 

"Epinephrine!" Ray cried, as Maria grabbed the hypodermic. Without hesitation, Ray shredded the shirt to expose part of her bare white chest. Grimly Maria slipped the needle in betwixt the breastbone and two ribs. 

Just then, Rachel gasped. "I... can't... stop it..." 

Before their eyes Rachel's skin fused to pure stone. Still she held Demona in her talons, upright and gasping. 

"Shit," Maria muttered. She jammed the plunger down, hoping and praying she had the heart. Human anatomy in college seemed like a distant memory. Head thrown back against Rachel's stone chest, Mona gasped desperately for breath. 

"Hang on girl, hang on!" Chavez firmly shook her. Quickly she grabbed the automatic inoculation gun, fitting in a new cartridge for the anti-gas agent. Unfortunately such a thing couldn't be used for the epinephrine, for it had to go directly into the heart, below a cage of bone. She jammed the muzzle of the inoculation gun into Mona's clenching arm. There was a "phutt" of compressed air as Chavez pulled the pneumatic trigger. 

Eyes rolling into the back of her head, Mona shuddered. Within seconds her quaking muscles subsided to gentle twitches. Rachel's stone talons held her upright. Maria Chavez did her best to ease Mona out of the stony grip and onto a palate. Even though her friend knew she would be all right because of the toxin, there was no guarantee that something else might not go wrong. After all, she had just been hit. The others down here had enough treatments. 

"Easy girl... I'm getting you help..." she urged, and rushed out into the main corridor. "Talon! Maggie! Get me Fox! Mona's been hit..." 

"What..." Maggie almost dropped the tray of water bottles she was schlepping into the temporary ward. 

"Mona... when she transformed... she got hit..." Maria huffed. Stopping, she hugged her chest as she caught her breath. 

"Didn't you give her the anti toxin?" Maggie asked. 

"Yes... but she's slipped into some sort of sleep..." 

"She should be all right... but I'll call Fox at the building to be sure..." said Maggie, rushing to the phone. "Stay with her..." 

* * *

NYU, that next day: 

Cesar Ramirez was just getting settled into the fraternity. It wasn't easy for a mid semester transfer, but he had succeeded in the best way. With his new brothers. 

Angrily he thought of wiping blood from his face, cursing redheaded, uppity Irish women. They could not mind their own business. Although in passing glance that girl Molly was rather a nice treat to the eyes. Good hips and nice ass. But Lucia, was whom his desire burned for. The gargoyle lover. Maybe he could have Molly as an added bonus, or share her once this was done. 

Oh he'd seen her picture in that rally. Amongst those students. How sweet it would have been to be the one to convince her of her error. But she was corrupted now, and had to be reeducated slowly, carefully. 

"You okay, man?" Arthur Davidge asked him. 

"Yeah... just a little setback..." 

"Yo, why don't we go for a pizza and a brew. There's a good place on campus..." 

"All right. But I have a stop to make first... you know that girl..." 

"Your girlfriend? Sure. I take it she wouldn't listen..." 

"No..." 

"Well, then, she's been brainwashed by those gargoyle lovers. We might need some more persuasion..." 

"Yes... have anything in mind?" 

"I heard from Roger Doyle that she often runs to the park. Maybe we can find her there. If not, we can catch her this afternoon when she shows up for work at the Javastop." 

"That's what I was thinking..." Cesar nodded. Both roommates readied themselves, slipping their jackets on overtop of what equipment they concealed. 

* * *

They all ate breakfast in the "drawing room". Large French windows overlooked his garden, and the large forest in back. 

"I'd best be going now," Maya Florez announced. She daintily wiped her mouth with the real cloth napkin on her lap. 

Lucia was just working on her second plate of scrambled eggs and fruit salad. She reached for another croissant from the abundance on the plate to once side. 

"Volunteering again, Auntie?" she asked. 

"Our friends need lots of help, considering they have had a strange illness come over them. But I've had it on good authority that someone recognized it an is even now pulling the worst of them out of it?" 

"May I inquire the institution?" Macbeth asked, after a sizable draught of orange juice. The pitcher was filled with fresh squeezed juice, which was thick with sweet pulp. 

"A homeless shelter," she shrugged. 

"Come nau, no secrets between friends," Macbeth laughed good-naturedly. Putting down his juice glass he reached for the coffeepot. "Can I freshen that up for you Senora?" 

"No thanks, I've had my quota," she answered, holding up a restraining hand. 

Lucia was grateful that they were getting along so well. The scrambled eggs mingled with cheese and mushrooms were ambrosia, and the orange juice was sheer nectar. 

"I'll have a refill," Lucia passed her cup. He obliged with a fresh shot of the hot java, and followed it up with fresh cream. Not two percent milk, but whole. 

"He knows about the Gargoyles, Aunt Maya. And Aunt Maria..." 

"All right," Maya sighed. "Well, it's the Labyrinth. OR that's what its inhabitants call it now. Derek and his girlfriend help them out normally. But they've fallen under a strange illness. And Fox Xanatos has been helping out there with medical supplies already..." 

"Hmm, I would be more then happy to..." Macbeth started. 

"No need senior, but it's awfully sweet of you to suggest. You've got your hands full as it is. I'll be fine..." 

"At least let me have my driver take you there," Macbeth offered, rising from the table. "I'll make the arrangements..." 

"A perfect gentleman he is," Maya grinned at Lucia. 

"I'm glad you think so," Lucia smiled. 

"Darn sight better then some. You don't let this one get away..." 

"Even if he is three times my age?" Lucia raised an eyebrow. 

"Nowadays since people are living longer, does it matter? A hundred years ago you would have been married off anyway! All young women would be so lucky... But anyway..." 

Macbeth returned, and sat down again. "It's all arranged. Just let him know where to let you off..." 

"Thank you Senior," she smiled, and pressed a kiss to his cheek as she got up. "Now you two behave yourselves..." 

She crossed over to Lucia, and pressed a kiss to her lips as well. She whispered, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do..." 

"Aunt Maya!" Lucia groaned. Macbeth grinned to himself as Lucia grimaced. 

* * *

"Whoo, what digs," Molly muttered. Already the gardener had led her to the front door, which was paneled in rich mahogany. It was late morning, and Molly O'Keefe still couldn't get over the vast open spaces. Tall trees abutted the tall castle that seemed to be transplanted from France itself. She wondered if she dared even grab the knocker for fear of mussing the polished brass. Instead she settled for ringing the doorbell. A humming noise came as the door clicked open. Lucia stood behind it, glancing at her thoughtfully. 

"I'm so glad you're not hurt..." she breathed. 

"I was hoping ya were okay," Molly O'Keefe breathed. "I didn't see you for three days..." 

"I was...sorta…. like not myself..." Lucia shrugged. "I'm really sorry..." 

"Tosh, don't apologize! You weren't the one who acted like a bastard! How come you're staying in here, in the first place?!" Molly asked, looking very bewildered. 

"Er... well... it's a long story..." Lucia muttered. 

"Don't just stand there, let the girl in," called Mrs. Jones from behind Lucia's shoulder. "Come on in. There's lemonade and sugar cookies..." 

Lucia groaned, but let Molly in. The red head whistled cheerfully as she took note of the huge foyer. Green eyes drank in the rich paintings and thick plush carpet underfoot while they watched Mrs. Jones urged them into the kitchen, down to one side. 

"Wow, and I thought I was in New York!" Molly muttered. "I brought some of yer clothes from school. Thought you might need them..." 

"Well I do have stuff here," Lucia said, helping to get the bags. "But I appreciate the thought... are you okay?" 

"Me, I'm foine," she laughed. "But I was wondering where ye were for the last night or so. But I'd be guessing you've been crashing here then?" 

"Well..." 

"This way ladies..." 

"Uh, Mrs. Jones, would it be okay if I uh... took it up to the room or something. Molly and me... we kinda wanna catch up..." 

"Girl talk and all!" Molly grinned, helping to pick up a plate of sugar cookies as Lucia took a pitcher and two glasses from the huge center island. The kitchen itself was the size of two dining rooms, nearly as large as the one in their dorm hall. 

"Not at all! Talk to your little friend! You have much to catch up on," Mrs. Jones caught Molly's wink. "Just make sure to keep the crumbs off the carpet now... they've just vacuumed..." 

"All righty then!" Molly said. "But the suitcases..." 

"Are already on their way up," Mrs. Jones nodded. "Run along now..." 

* * *

"First class eh? This the Ritz or a museum?" Molly joked. They sat in the goodly sized room Lucia had occupied for the last few nights. Not the master bedroom, it was a smaller chamber in one of the towers, with a good view of the ocean bay far below. Before long both girls were sitting at the small dressing table as if it were their dorm room back home. 

"I appreciate you doing this..." 

"Feh, think nowt' o it," Molly devoured another sugar cookie. "Tis what a friend is for. But you could do me a favor in return..." 

"What?" 

"Tell me about yer gentleman friend." Molly winked, tossing her head around the room. "He must be in really good with Professor MacDuff. Is he a relative of the good Professor then?" 

"Well..." Lucia sighed, settling on the bed as she began to unpack one case. Molly must have brought half her closet up here! 

"I bet you come here for a secret rendezvous..." 

"Well, he's handsome, smart, and gallant," she started. 

"Details, girl..." 

"Mm well, he's strong. Very buff. You wouldn't believe it for his age..." 

"Mm, age?" Molly laughed. 

"Loves fencing, history, and hunting..." Lucia added. 

"How is he between the sheets? A good snog?" 

"Molly!" she groaned, blushing. 

"Ah hah, thought so!" Molly laughed. "Yer hooked right enough! So who's this stud muffin of a man... as if I didn't know. Who bagged ye... come on, we're roomies... what cousin or nephew or son of the good Professor is he?" 

"okay! okay! I'm telling you! no need to scream like a banshee! You know that new professor in history?" she asked. Molly looked stunned for a sheer minute, her eyes perfect circles with her rounded mouth. 

"Not Dr. Summers," she groaned. 

"No! The silver haired gentleman with the beard," she felt her face flush hot. "He's older..." 

"Professor MacDuff? Ye mean the Professor and ye are... and not a relative of his...." Molly's jaw dropped. 

Blushing, Lucia nodded. "Lennox himself." 

"Ooh lass, yer making me fair jealous! But isn't he a wee bit auld..." 

"I thought the same at first, but he's soo wonderful!" she hummed as she thought about their first time. 

"I'd have t' agree with ya there!" Molly grinned, and swigged down the last of her lemonade. 

"He's so gentle," Lucia sighed, hugging the pillow as she lay back in the bed. "When he kissed me that first time... I could have fainted..." 

"Wait, he kissed ye... how on Earth did ya pull that one off?" 

"Well it was during a history lesson. I was so nervous my shirt was accidentally unbuttoned, and he was looking at me with a very shocked expression. I couldn't resist, and kissed him them and there..." 

"Ye kissed him? Oho, ye are wicked! I've corrupted ya through and through!" 

"Well, it wasn't that easy to convince him. It all blurted out of me at once... and then I thought he'd hate me. And then something very weird happened..." 

"Oh?" 

"I told him men my age were... jerks. And he wondered what I meant... Then I blurted something about not being able to kiss...." 

"And?" Molly nudged her. 

"He asked me to demonstrate what I meant!" Lucia giggled spasmodically. 

"Oho ye are a shrewd one! And did he kiss ye then?" 

"Well I kissed him. Then he said something about young people always being in a damn rush, and he put his arms around me, got very close so my cheeks were tickled by that beard of his... ooh it feels soo soft like velvet, and he was breathing right into my face. I almost died and went to heaven. Then... he kissed me so softly I melted inside..." 

Both of them erupted into laughter, pitched with screams of shared girlish delight. "Aww I can't believe it! 

Ye are a vixen!" Molly laughed, clapping her on the back. "So... did you and he... nudge nudge..." 

"Did we ever!" she sighed. "We went back here... when he said something about continuing this in less academic settings... and ooohhhh I'm still tingling all over when I think about it..." 

"Hmm," Molly giggled. "This the room?" 

"The master bedroom! We're talking a king size canopy, twice the size of this one here! I wondered if I had gone to Buckingham palace!" 

"Whoo, what fun!" 

"He used protection. The first gentleman I was ever with that didn't ask. He assumed...." Lucia nodded. 

"Cesar never..." 

"Forget Cesar! I want t' know about yer professor..." Molly smacked her playfully on the knee. 

"The feel of those muscles against me... it's so strong and shivery," she muttered with a laugh. "It's like making love to a... racehorse who's a thoroughbred...." 

"And how did you feel the next day? Worn out?" 

"Like a marathon!" she breathed. "It ached at lot... but it was that nice kind of pain... he was so considerate... he didn't rush... which made it even more... delicious when we finally did!" 

"It gets better each time," Molly grinned. 

"Ye deserve him," Molly nodded. "And what's this... he gave ye a present..." 

"Yes, only yesterday," Lucia nodded, showing her the pendant. 

"Hmm, he's a Moray is he?" she asked with a slight laugh. "Haven't seen that family in a fair while!" 

"Well," Lucia felt a bit awkward. "His name's MacDuff though..." 

"Still that means little when ye look at bloodlines..." 

"But what was your first time like?" 

"Mm," Molly sighed wistfully. "That'd be a while back..." 

"Okay, your last boyfriend..." 

"Ah, Rory," she sighed, deeply. "I miss him much I do. That lad had the best stayin power I ever had the fortune t' witness. Strong, a bit lithe, but ooh so lively he was! If ye got past the sulking!" 

"Sulking?" 

"Nae jobs fer him in Ireland. Didn't know a trade, and I tried to convince him to come here to America," Molly shook her head. "Twas all I could do t' loosen him up. You wouldn't believe how tight his back was! Like a guitar!" 

"Magic fingers?" Lucia laughed, making a massaging motion. 

"That fair near helped. But you know what was the best foreplay?" 

Lucia blushed, "Uh..." 

"He loved hearing my stories," she giggled. "Got him in the mood. Then, a little bit of tongue in the ear... and soft voices, and he was putty in me hands..." 

"Tongue in the... ear?" 

"Don't knock it till ya try it," Molly smiled. "And he was very partial t' a bit of going down upon too..." 

"I couldn't..." she flushed very red. "He's... old fashioned..." 

"Works wonders when they are stressed," Molly nodded. "A few times of that... and he learned t' relax much better... especially in the moors at night... and trust me, there's no a man old nor young that doesn't like a good blow job..." 

"Ohhh noo..." Lucia felt herself wanting to die of embarrassment. 

"Heh, don't act so pure and mighty now," Molly teased her. "I've seen the way ya eat a Popsicle. It's just the same..." 

"Molly... you are terrible," Lucia groaned. Just then a knock shattered their girl talk. Molly squealed with surprise. 

"Yes?" Lucia asked. 

"May I have a moment, m'dear?" asked a familiar voice. Molly cast a knowing wink to a very mortified Lucia. 

* * *

  



	4. Cesar

  
Disclaimer: The characters of Gargoyles belong to Buena Vista Television, Disney, inc. This is a work of fanfiction, and is being written without consent or knowledge of the aforementioned company. Lucia Dominguez, Keith Polasky, Sharon Lewis, Cesar Ramierez, and Rachel Vitreum are my characters. Lina and Maya are Denis DePlaen's, and are concepts used with his consent for this story. Any mentions of Time Lords or Dr. Who are property of BBC and are used out of fun for a great sf series. 

Rated PG13 for some language and mature situations. 

****

Last Rest Denied 

****

Part 4

Written by: Trynia Merin 

Synopsis by Malkavien@lft.be

*******************************************************************

"Okay, you'll be all right now," Fox Xanatos assured a very exhausted Maria. Mona slept quietly, her eyes pressed tightly shut. 

"Are you sure?" Maria Chavez asked Fox. 

"I should ask about you! How the hell can you be here without a protective suit is beyond me..." 

Fox strode about in her armor, which included a self-sealed visored helmet. It was quite a contrast to some of the other volunteers who milled about in positive pressure suits amidst shiny plastic draperies. Even more of a contrast to Maria Chavez, who wore nothing but shirtsleeves. 

"It's a long story. But if you did my bloodwork you must have noticed a difference," Chavez answered cryptically. 

"I'll say," Fox shook her head. "Your blood is very rare. So rare that there are proteins in it that appear in no other human sample I've seen." 

"Simple explanation," Chavez pointed to the statue of Rachel, which stood watchfully over Mona's bedside. 

"You two.. have some history?" 

"You could say that..." 

Fox grinned. "I always knew you were a wild one, Chavez. Underneath that businesslike exterior, you're a player..." 

"Well, not a player," Chavez clarified. "But look, what about Mona. Is she all right here?" 

"Well, in a few minutes David's going to be moving the worst ones who are still affected to hospital. I was thinking it's best given Mona's unique situation, that she be moved to the infirmary. Even though she said this Nepharyn doesn't affect Gargoyles... we hope..." 

Maria Chavez nodded, and then one of the new volunteers caught her eye. 

"Maya?" she asked, grabbing one as they shuffled past. 

"Maria!" came the muffled answer. "What are you doing here?" 

"Maya, what are you doing?" Chavez responded. "This isn't any place for you with your condition..." 

"I'm not laying dead for crying out loud," Maya laughed. "And I do have a suit..." 

"Fox, this is my sister, Maya Florez," Maria smiled. 

"Nice to meet you," Fox grinned. 

"But what are you..." Maria asked. "Don't tell me, you know this place!" 

"Please, I knew all about Derek when I first came here..." 

Mona slowly groaned, writhing in her sleep. Maria and Fox rushed to her side. "She's coming out of it," Fox muttered. 

"Who is this?" Maya asked. "Haven't seen her here before..." 

"Mona," said Maria Chavez. "A gal I found... she's new..." 

"Yeah," Fox nodded. "She's the one who found the cure for the illness..." 

"Extraordinary young lady then," Maya glanced at Mona, who blinked slowly. 

"What... hit me..." 

"The Nepharyn almost got you," said Fox with a wink. "You should have left here before morning..." 

"Maya... Florez?" Mona glanced up at her. "You... you're Lucia's aunt... but why... are you here..." 

"You know Lucia?" asked Maya. 

"We... are... were friends," Mona smiled gently, rubbing her eyes. Maria gripped Mona's hand firmly. 

"Glad you're all right. You scared us for a while..." 

"I feel so weak," Mona groaned. 

"Are you a medical student at the university then?" asked Maya, rubbing her chin. "If you found a cure for this disease?" 

"I know many things... over the years..." Mona sighed. "I mean I have learned a little here and there..." 

"Let's say she took some classes," Maria hastily explained. 

"Mrs. Florez... your suit..." Mona suddenly pointed to a small rip that had appeared. 

"Caramba!" Maria Chavez gasped. 

"It's positive pressure, but we should get you an injection quickly," Fox said. Maria took her sister's arm, and helped her to the isolation area. 

"No," Mona whispered, and clutched at the silver crucifix around her neck. 

* * *

***

Strangely they waited, and she did not show up for work. They waited lazily, sipping coffee with their mates, till four. Still no sign of her. Cesar and Arthur became a bit nervous watching the people walk by. 

Finally they decided to try Central Park... which was a good hike of city blocks from there. 

"Let me know if you find her..." he said. "Me and Brother Ramierez are heading out..." 

"We'll keep our eyes open..." 

Ramierez and Davidge nodded, heading out of the busy shop onto the street. It was rush hour, and the campus was jammed. Both were quickly split up in the crowd, but little matter, for they had their pagers to keep in touch. 

He saw a few professors, milling about as they walked with their briefcases. He caught site of a silver haired gent heading his way. Something seemed familiar. Ah well, on to the park, he thought. 

"Mr. Ramierez?" came a deep voice, with a Scottish Accent. 

"Yes..." 

"There is something I would like to discuss with you. Do you have a moment..." it continued. A powerfully built man, clad in corduroy jacket and a blue colarless shirt, peered at him. Those steely blue eyes fixed into his with an icy calm. He must be a professor, for that briefcase with the initials L and M and the long black coat seemed professorial. 

"Sure... what's on your mind Mister..." 

"Lennox MacDuff. Professor MacDuff to you, young man. I understand you are acquainted with Lucia Dominguez..." 

"Yeah, I know her," he grinned. "She's my girlfriend..." 

"Are ye so sure?" the Professor glared at him, steely eyes piercing into his dark ones. 

"Hey man, like... easy..." 

"I'm only going t' say this once, lad. Ye stay clear of her, lest something happen t' ye that ya might well regret..." 

"Or what?" he asked. "What's it to you, sir?" 

"There is a penalty against battery and assault..." Macbeth growled, glaring right at him with a look that would have slain Cesar if it contained ammunition. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"A student of mine, with a suspicious bruise on her cheek, crying and weeping in fear. Does that ring a bell, lad?" Macbeth continued, voice low. 

"I don't know nothing about it. You'd better lay off, if you know what's good..." Cesar snapped back, pushing Macbeth away. 

"Was that a challenge?" Macbeth asked, hiding a look of contemptible amusement. 

"I know who you are now!" Cesar snorted. "You're the gargoyle lover who disrupted the recruitment..." 

"Very perceptive lad. Did ye include hitting innocent lasses in yer course work?" 

"Shut up!" he snapped, and his fist flashed out. Macbeth instantly blocked, grabbing Cesar's offending hand. 

"Dinnae tempt me laddie. Ye've a lot of spunk, I'll admit that. But ye havena a prayer…" 

"Let me go, you son of a bitch..." he snarled, and kicked. Macbeth's foot shot out like lightening, drop kicking his feet from under him as he crashed into the pavement. 

A foot landed on Cesar's throat, Macbeth standing over him. He grabbed up, twisting as he pulled Macbeth down. Angrily Macbeth rolled over and over, his fist cracking into Cesar's jaw with surprising force. Already a crowd had gathered. Stunned, Cesar lay there with a nasty bruise to rival Lucia's. 

"Frickin asshole, you'll pay for this!" he snarled, as Macbeth turned away. He rushed forwards to the attack. Neatly Macbeth dodged, throwing the boy over his shoulder. Cesar ate cement as he landed roughly. 

"Ye started this, I recall, insolent whelp... and if you ever so much as touch her again... ye'll answer t' me!" Macbeth pointed at the stunned Cesar. 

"What's going on here?" a police officer asked, grabbing Macbeth's arm. 

"That man hit me!" Cesar snapped, blood dripping from his nose. 

"You'll have to come with us sir..." Morgan grabbed Macbeth's arm. Angrily he cooperated, seeing Cesar's smug grin. At least he was spitting blood for a change! 

* * *

***

"Yes... I'll be there right away," Xanatos nodded. "What happened..." 

Owen watched his boss carefully, knowing who was the source of the call, but not quite sure what had possessed Macbeth to hit a student! 

"Owen, get ten thousand out of my personal account, in cash. We have a favor to an old friend to pay back..." 

"Is Mr. Macbeth in trouble?" 

"Yes, plenty. Seems he punched out a quarryman... a neo quarryman..." 

Xanatos stroked his beard, chuckling, "A neo-quarrymen, Owen?" 

"One of the new recruits that Castaway signed on. Named Cesar Ramierez..." 

"Ramierez... Ramierez... where have I heard that name before," Xanatos pondered. It was right there on the tip of his brain and he was loathe to forget it. 

"I seem to recall sir, that the Dracons had ties with a family named Ramierez in an arms smuggling operation a few years back..." 

"Ah now I remember," Xanatos snapped his fingers. "Roderigo Ramierez! Dominic Dracon's old business associate. Supposedly his families had ties to the drug cartel in South America... cut their teeth to big time crime by smuggling cocaine in those colorful dolls and pinyatas they used to crate up. Small time, but big enough to get them into weapons smuggling..." 

"You do your homework, Mr. Xanatos..." 

"Undoubtedly. I once considered having them smuggle some of the Steel clan parts up from Cyberbiotics, through Cuba, to New York. But Ramierez got sloppy..." 

"Could he be related perhaps to this Cesar. It is a common name... but Mr. Ramierez was in this country since the nineteen fifties..." 

"Fill me in on the way Owen. Pull up the old Internet files of my old contacts. This might answer some questions..." 

* * *

***

At the police station, Detective Maza shook her head. Lennox MacDuff allowed Matt Bluestone to lead him passively out of the holding cell. Both knew he was capable of flattening almost any resistance they could throw at him. The fact he was so compliant now with the law was a blessing and a quandary for Elisa. 

"Macbeth, what were you thinking?" Elisa snapped at him, as Matt sat him in the questioning room. Calmly Macbeth's gray eyes fixed into hers. 

"I was merely righting a wrong. Cesar Ramierez abused Lucia Dominguez. I saw the evidence with my own eyes. The bruise on her cheek last night as a matter of fact. No one else took action to stop it..." 

"But you keep taking the law into your own hands, Macbeth! In God's name, what gives you that right?" asked Elisa. 

Macbeth returned her cold stare, folding his hands on the wooden table before him. Steel gray eyes locked into hers. "What gives ye the right t' judge me, lass? Have ye been alive for 900 years and seen what I have? Experienced what I have?" 

"Wait... you mean that guy hit Lucia?" 

"Yes. She is in a considerable state of shock over it too. Apparently this is not the first time he lay hands upon the lass. I merely told the lad I would not tolerate such behavior. He was the first one to throw a punch. I merely defended myself." 

"He could have done a lot more damage to him," Matt pointed out. "As it was, the report said that all he got was a bloody nose and a few cracked ribs." 

"Miss Maza, if I had fought him to the full extent of my abilities, I assure you Mr. Ramierez would have suffered far worse. A fractured spine, and a shattered jaw would only be the tip of the iceberg. I pulled that punch considerably..." 

"I know you meant well, but this is going to cost you. You can't go around punching someone out even if they do deserve it! That's what the police are for. We could already add charges of vigilantism to this charge of aggravated assault!" 

"Nevertheless, I could not stand by while Miss Dominguez felt her life was threatened. Molly O'Keefe was also endangered. This man sneaked into a girl's dormitory room, Detective! Who knows what else he is capable of!" 

Elisa turned her back on him with a big sigh. She folded her arms across her red jacketed chest. For a moment, she chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Macbeth, you are a good man. I sincerely believe that you thought you were doing the right thing. But you can't keep doing this. People are going to get hurt. You could be put away for life... as it is you're gonna have to stand trial!" 

"Lass, considering how long I have lived, fifty years is nothing," Macbeth joked sadly. "And that man would walk free to terrorize and torment Miss Dominguez. Not to mention others. Who can tell what his current behavior would suggest! I have seen hundreds of boys like him, angry and full of their own self-purpose. One of them was Canmore... the son of the man that murdered my Father, and who was the Second Hunter. I wasted centuries chasing after my own death when I should have stopped the insanity of the Hunters!" 

"Oh Lord. Look, Macbeth, I want to help you here, but this isn't looking good..." Elisa sighed. She turned the chair and sat with her chest propped up against the chair's back. 

"Ms. Maza, I respect you for doing your job. Surely you can understand a gentleman's personal code of honor. Of what is right and what is wrong." 

"Macbeth, look, you haven't exactly proven that your motives are selfless. What about when you tried to steal Excalibur from King Arthur, or stole the Scrolls of Merlin?" 

"I admit that was done out of foolishness," he hung his head. "I was desperate for any advantage, any means of ending my centuries of torment..." 

"But why the change of heart?" Elisa demanded. "What makes this time different from all those others?" 

"Your Goliath said a few years ago, when Demona had turned the city's inhabitants to stone by night, that Death is not the answer. I suppose I have learned that now..." 

"For our sakes I hope so," Elisa responded. "And for Lucia's as well!" 

"What?" Matt asked. 

"Why else would you be fighting like some schoolboy? I think that you have more then just a passing interesting in her as a student..." 

"That is her private affair, and my own," Macbeth coughed. 

Matt grinned a bit, and Elisa shot him a glare. "Look, I don't want her or you getting hurt. I don't know what you two have going on, but if she is in any way put into danger..." 

"That is precisely why Cesar is nursing a hurt jaw," Macbeth rubbed his hand. Matt burst into a fit of laughter, and Elisa slowly felt steam coming out her ears. 

"Jalapeno, cut it out Matt! This isn't helping!" 

"Sorry partner! I just never thought I'd see... Mac here... heheeehe mixing it up like a knight in shining armor, to the rescue of the fair damsel's honor!" 

"Don't even go there," Elisa sighed disgustedly. 

Macbeth allowed himself a small smile. Even handcuffed there, he had never felt so glad he cracked an insolent whelp in the jaw. It was as if he had hit Canmore and Gillcomgain themselves for centuries of torment. Yes, the Weird Sisters had said that vengeance solved nothing. Still, why did it feel so damned satisfying sometimes? 

* * *

***

Keys clacked under Keith's fingers. It wasn't too long before he would have some answers to the many questions floating through his brain. Lucia's constant disappearances and Sharon's fretting over Rachel had forced him to take drastic action. The illuminated words of Destiny Incorporated flickered backwards across his amber lensed glasses. Soon he would find Dominique, and the answers to such questions. 

In the background the strains of Paul Stanley belted out the song Strutter. Indeed he was finding out a thing or two about the elusive Dominique. He couldn't get her figure out of his brain since then. 

__

He could not forget the taste of action as he and Macbeth had taken on the quarryman. Nor could he forget the fact that when he woke up, Mac had been standing over him in that same black suit of armor, sitting patiently for him to wake up. 

__

"So it did happen," Keith had muttered when Macbeth removed the wet cloth from his head. 

__

"Aye lad, it did," Macbeth had answered sullenly. What was that look of sorrow in those steel eyes in regard to? 

__

"But Castaway... didn't you nail him?" 

__

"I did," Macbeth muttered. 

__

"Well..." 

__

"He's been arrested... and will face trial I am sure..." Macbeth sighed deeply. Arms folded across the front of his black suit of armor. 

__

"You mean you didn't kill him?" Keith gasped. "I thought you swore to Rachel..." 

__

"I almost did kill him, God help me," Macbeth sighed. Slowly he rose to his full height, and strode over to the French window. His eyes glanced out into the morning sun. In that instant, Keith realized the complexity of this strange, regal figure. How long had he been alive, and what terrors had he lived through over the centuries? 

__

Keith shivered when he recalled the look of sadness and foreboding written on Mac's face when he turned back from the window. The rising of the sun seemed so commonplace to him, and so wearisome to the black armored figure. 

__

"Ye face a decision lad," Macbeth sternly stated. His steely gaze bored right into Keith's soul. 

__

"Oh don't tell me. This is the part where you give me some crap about keeping my mouth shut and carrying some deep dark secret, right?" 

__

"Essentially you have guessed it. But what you do with this is entirely up to you. I doubt anyone would believe your story anyway, since I gathered you are quite the fan of science fiction. Also, I know that your sense of adventure would lead you to use such skills to as you say... nail the quarryman the next time they should strike..." 

__

"So... what does this mean?" 

__

"Ye are a talented young man. I could... use your skills from time to time. Provided ye behave yerself..." 

__

"You and me, kicking Q-men butt?" Keith laughed. "This just gets better and better..." 

Now Keith was putting some of his so called skills to use. When he confronted Mac about Rachel, all Macbeth would say was that he was attempting to find out what Rachel wished. Whether Rachel had chosen to stay with the Gargoyles or rejoin Demona seemed up in the air. Especially when he recalled Demona had saved his life those few weeks ago. 

His meetings with Macbeth were brief, yet full of questions. Each time Mac assured him he would let Keith know when next he needed a favor. Whenever her asked about Rachel, Mac said he did not know. 

Now Keith had his own agenda. Mac had been arrested, and that put an end to pestering him where Rachel was and how she was doing. He would find out for himself! 

A series of beeps and his computer dialed the number he had secured. Any calls to Castle Wyvern were never answered. 

"Destiny Incorporated..." 

"Uh hi. Can you put me in touch with Dominique Destine?" Keith asked. "I represent a certain computer software firm..." 

"She is not available... but I will leave a message..." 

"Just tell her a Mr. Polasky wants to talk to her..." 

"Shit," he muttered. Seconds later he dialed yet another number. Dominique's unlisted personal line. 

"How did you get this number?" her voice grated. 

"It's Keith! Look, I need to talk to you! It's about Rachel!" 

"What do you know about that?" 

"Is she there?" 

"There is no one by that name here," came the feral reply, tinged with a snarl. 

"Demona... I'm worried about her..." 

"How do you know..." 

"Come on! You saved my life, and I'm grateful. But can you please tell me if Rachel's okay!" 

"Who are you?" 

"Macbeth's padawan! Keith's the name, finding Rachel's the game!" 

There was silence on the other end. "She has chosen her place, human. At Castle Wyvern. And if you know what is good for you, you will be very cautious in your actions. I spared your life once, but don't tempt me to think it a mistake! Good evening!" 

"Demona! wait!" 

"What, now?" 

"You take care, okay?" 

Mute met his words, and for a moment Keith thought she had hung up on him. Imagine his surprise when her voice responded, "You too, hu... I mean... Keith Polaski..." 

The phone clicked off, and Keith grinned. 

"Bingo." 

* * *

***

"Sharon!" Keith shouted, pounding on the door of her dormitory room. 

"What?" came her annoyed grunt. Slowly she lifted her head from her textbook. Glancing at her watch she realized she had fallen asleep right in the middle of studying for a history exam! 

"I have something important to tell you about Rachel!" Keith's voice came. 

"What?" she cried, leaping nearly a foot out of her chair. Immediately she jerked the door open on an anxious Keith. His hair was a stirred mess, his bluejean jacket with the KISS army logo on one lapel thrown on over an old Akira T-shirt. 

"Why didn't you say so!" she snapped. "Where the hell is she! How the hell is she?" 

"Well... she isn't quite the same old Rachel..." 

"What could have happened..." 

"Um I'd better tell you on the way..." 

"On the way where?" Sharon demanded. 

"Castle Wyvern. Get your coat. We can just about make the next subway train if we leave now..." 

"Keith, why didn't you tell me you heard something?" she asked again, slamming the door behind her as she threw on her bluejean jacket. Down the stairs of her dormitory they both trotted. Keith's long legged pace was difficult for her to keep up with. 

"Well, Rachel was afraid of how we'd react. She had a bad accident... that had something to do with those Quarryman..." 

"Is she in the hospital... I swear if they..." 

"She's fine now... if you want to call it that..." 

* * *

***

"Call for Miss Vitreum," Owen Burnett announced. All around him the Gargoyles roared to life, showering Xanatos' Major domo in a hail of stone shards. 

Hudson stretched, next to Rachel. "What, I have a call? Who is it?" 

"A Mr. Keith Polasky. He says it's urgent." 

"Keith?" Hudson asked. "Isn't he one of your students?" 

"Yes but how did he..." 

"Do you wish to talk to him or not?" Owen asked, and held out the cell phone to her. Rachel looked from Hudson to the cell phone, her face fraught with worry. 

"Lass, ye have t' face it sometime," Hudson assured her. "Ye can't erase yer past..." 

Sighing, Rachel took the phone from Owen. "Hello... Keith..." she asked. 

"Rachel! Thank God! Why the hell didn't you call me?" Keith's angry voice crackled. "I was worrying my ass off!" 

"Keith... I didn't know if you could... accept what has changed..." Rachel choked into the phone. Hudson frowned when he saw the anguish in her turquoise skinned face. What did this student mean to her? It seemed far beyond just the usual concern of a student for a teacher. 

"Shit Rachel, Mac told me what happened! You could have told me! Why the hell didn't you..." 

"Keith I'm so sorry. So many things have happened. Look, I want you to come to Wyvern. I want to apologize to you in person..." 

"That's more like it! Rachel, I miss you dammit..." 

"Keith... could you bring... Sharon with you?" 

"Sure thing! See you tonight..." 

Slowly Rachel clicked the phone shut resigned, and handed it back to Owen. "I'll... be expecting company," she told him. 

"Bring a human friend here?" Hudson asked, a bit concerned. 

"Why not?" Rachel turned on him. "He deserves to know..." 

Hudson exchanged a gruff look with Owen. Burnett shrugged, and moved off into the castle. 

Delilah tentatively walked up, holding Mute in her arms. "Ah, Miss Delilah? We could use your help in the infirmary... with Miss Mona..." 

"I shall go to assist..." she nodded. 

* * *

***

Thirty minutes later, Owen Burnett waited by the main lobby. The doorman had called up to announce Rachel's guests had arrived, and were on their way up. 

"You won't believe what's happened to her," Keith said to Sharon, as the elevator door opened. Sharon pulled down the short skirt of her sphagetti strap sundress, and pounded her platform sandaled feet impatiently. She struggled to get her short cropped blond hair into some order. 

"What?" 

"Well... she said she finally wanted to see us, explain why she wasn't at school. Her voice sounded different... so I want you to be prepared for a shock..." 

"What could possibly..." Sharon asked. 

"Ah, welcome, Mr. Polaski, and Miss Lewis..." Owen nodded matter of fact. He smiled to himself when he recognized them from Rachel's office two months ago. Back before the events had been set in motion. 

"We're here to see Dr. Vitreum..." Keith said, thrusting a hand into his bluejean pocket. Owen eyed them both matter of fact, with an air of some disdain at the choice in clothes. 

"She's in the infirmary with a patient..." 

"Oh?" Keith asked. "What happened..." 

"I would recommend waiting..." 

"We want to see her now..." 

Rachel suddenly exited a small room, coming off the main corridor. Sharon's eyes dropped out of her head as she saw a blue skinned gargoyle striding in, wearing Rachel's glasses. 

"Sharon... Keith..." she said, holding out a claw. 

"Holy shit," Sharon muttered. "Rachel?" 

"Yes... it is me... "Rachel said. 

"Hey, um... Well... you could've come out sooner," Keith said, nervously going up to her. 

"Rachel... what happened?" Sharon asked. 

"Well, I went through a change..." Rachel said, as Keith pulled Sharon over to her. Still her blonde friend was in shock, but whether it was revulsion or just surprise Rachel couldn't determine. 

"I thought you were horribly disfigured..." Sharon stammered. "But this..." 

Rachel lowered her head, eyes shining. "I know it's a shock..." 

"Thank God you're alive!" Sharon opened her arms, and leapt into Rachel's, almost knocking her over. Her arms latched around her friend's waist, hugging tightly. In surprise Rachel felt her arms wrapped around Sharon, folding her friends in her wings. 

"You... you... could have told me!" Sharon cried, pressing a kiss to Rachel's cheek. "Ray, Hon, I was soo worried! how did it happened to you?" 

"Shar... I didn't think..." 

"Oh shut up!" Sharon wailed, and pressed a smacking kiss to Rachel's lips. Her tongue gently slipped against Rachel's fangs, her lips soft, and sweet, tasting of strawberry lip-gloss. How sweet it felt to be so kissed again by a familiar set of lips. How unexpected. 

Surprised, Rachel pulled away gasping, "I thought you would be... repulsed..." 

"Ray, damn you! Don't do that again! You had me worried sick!" cried Sharon, her eyes glistening with tears as she fingered Rachel's dark hair. 

"Hey, what do you think we are, bigots?" Keith asked, slipping an arm around Rachel. Slowly she lifted a wing and let him pull her close. "Move over, Shar..." 

Keith's kiss was just as welcome, and she felt her own hot tears as she pulled off her glasses. Both of her students held her close, and she could just about wrap them in her wings as they pressed against her. 

"Oh Matrix I missed you..." she choked. 

"Hell, what do you think?" Keith said, stroking her back. 

"Shit, why didn't you let me see you before this?" Sharon scolded her. 

"Well, considering past.. Ahem... activities... I didn't think you would be amenable to..." 

"Shh," Sharon kissed away her doubts. "Look, at least you're alive. Let's take one step at a time..." 

"Hmm, I wonder..." Keith got that wicked look in his eye. His fingers brushed a wing strut, and Rachel jumped, flushing. 

"Hot spot," Sharon glanced at him. 

"This could work," Keith grinned at her. 

"Not in front of Owen," she chided them. Owen gave a little smile at the reunion, only interrupting with a cough, "Excuse me, but our patient wants to talk to you..." 

"Oh... but..." 

"Guest?" asked Keith. 

"Hmm... you might as well meet her," Rachel took their hands in her talons and led them into the infirmary. 

* * *

***

"Dee, prepare an IV with glucose and penicillin." 

"Yes doctor," she nodded. Delilah had already learned much basic medicine over the past few months. She had started under tutelage of a homeless doctor that had come to the Labyrinth when the Clone Clan lived there several years back. It felt good to put the skills to use again, especially since Thailog strongly discouraged any such learning. Demona had allowed Delilah to continue her training with some strange disdain. which made it even more difficult to see her facsimile there in the patient bed. 

"Her heartbeat is strong," Delilah pressed a stethoscope to Mona's chest. "But body temperature is lower then should be..." 

"All right. It would appear that her electrolytes are off balance..." 

Mona groaned, shaking her red haired head. It was odd to see her without the gold tiara, yet Delilah recalled some talk among the others of the Manhattan clan regarding her activities. 

"She saved all the people in the labyrinth," said Dr. Frazier. "Quite a feat... considering it was a disease none of us had even heard of." 

"Nepharyn... 4..." Mona muttered. Eyes sprang open, and flickered between Dee and Dr. Frazier. 

"Easy, miss, you've had a nasty shock..." 

Just then the phone rang on Dr. Frazier's belt. "Excuse me. Take over, will you, Dee?" 

"Doctor..." Dee protested, but gave up when he slipped out into the hallway. Nervous, she turned to Demona. 

"Why... am I in the infirmary?" 

"You were hit... by disease," Delilah coughed. 

"Dee... you're... a doctor's assistant?" Mona smiled. "I always knew you had the skills to heal... but I never thought to see you actually carry it through..." 

"You... knew me from your... world?" Dee asked. 

"Yes... my pretty one," Mona smiled. "You and I were mother and daughter. When Angela..." 

At the mention of the name Angela, Dee noticed the pain in Mona's face. Clearly a bad memory had surfaced that she did not wish to recall, for the next moment she changed her topic, "But that is that world, and this is here and now..." 

"What was... I like in your world?" Dee asked. Dr. Frazier had left by then to check on his other patients. 

"You were much as you are now. Always caring for Mute... I mean Mute. Helping to teach the young in the rookery. You were always soothing their aches and pains, and I remember you had this really good massaging technique I always used on brook... on my mate..." 

"You and I... mother and daughter you said," Delilah looked at her oddly. 

"Yes," Mona smiled, raising a talon and cupping Dee's chin. "I would like it if... we could at least be friends. Whenever I was tired of the fight, you... she... was always there to reassure me it was worth fighting for... the clan..." 

Dee smiled shyly, and slipped her talon into Mona's. Hesitatingly she said, "I... will give it a chance..." 

* * *

***

Mona was practicing signing with Mute when she saw the three approaching. Mute had just asked what her name was, when Mona struggled. She had to find something that would distance them from the bad memories of her past and forge a new present. Then the business with the Nepharyn 4 had blotted out the memories for now. She was grateful for the disease that had suddenly overcome her in human form. 

"Wow! Who's that gorgeous gargoyle babe?" asked Sharon, seeing the female gargoyle sitting near Mute, in the hospital bed. Indeed the twilight blue gargoyle with the burgundy hair, bobbed was lovely. Those tapering hips and smooth face smiled at both of them. 

"Sharon... is that you?" Demona asked, sitting bold upright in bed. 

"Uh... yeah... do I know you?" 

"Holy shit... it's that Demona lady who took you away!" Keith exclaimed. 

"This is not what you think," said Rachel. 

"But she looks like..." 

"Demona?" she said, holding a hand out to Keith. "I know what you're thinking... but I mean no harm..." 

"She's from an alternate universe," Rachel explained. 

"No shit," Sharon gasped. 

"Okay..." Keith muttered, rubbing his head. He noticed she wore no gold crown, and the look in the eyes was pleasant, kind. Briefly he remembered the hunger within the eyes of the other gargoyle, her loincloth and halter-top hanging around her shapely form. But somehow this one appeared... younger. 

"And she saved the lives of everyone in the labyrinth," Rachel added. 

"From a toxic nerve gas..." 

"Whoa... shades of Burning Zone," Keith muttered appreciatively. 

"But we can't call you Demona... can we?" 

"No," she muttered, rubbing her chin. "Hmm... I was called... Angel... once..." 

"Hmm, Angelina?" Rachel supplied. 

"Yes, that is it. I am... Angelina..." Demona smiled. "A new name... for a new start..." 

She glanced down at Mute who was struggling to sign the new name. Yet all she could do was make the sign of L, over her heart. 

"Lina?" Angelina said. 

"Hey, that's nice," Sharon said. "But how... why?" 

"How did you get here?" Keith asked. 

"It's a long story... Keith..." 

"How do you know us... did you tell her Ray?" asked Sharon. 

"No... not yet..." 

"I know all about you, Keith Polaski, and Sharon Lewis. But I doubt your lives will be the same again... from what I remember..." 

"Why do I get the feeling this is gonna be a long story?" Keith asked, as he pulled up a chair and sat down. Sharon took a chair nearby. 

* * *

***

"What do you mean he got arrested?" Lucia demanded of Owen. Already the poor major domo had been taxed trying to explain this to everyone else. This was the worst, if he suspected what was true. 

"Aggravated Assault," Owen calmly explained. 

"But why?" 

"Ask him yourself," Owen said. "Mr. Xanatos has gone over to pick him up... once he posts bail..." 

"Dios!" Lucia moaned. She had a nasty suspicion what the motive was. 

Just then the door burst open, and Macbeth stormed out, an angry look on his face. He turned to Xanatos, and extended his hand. 

"My thanks, David..." 

"My pleasure Lennox..." 

"I will of course pay ye back..." 

"No problem, consider it my contribution to the cause against that low-life Castaway. He owes me big time..." 

"I seemed to have left my wallet behind..." Macbeth muttered. 

"Madre de Dios, what the hell did you do?" Lucia rushed up to him, tears in her eyes. She threw herself into his arms, burying her head against his chest. "I was so worried..." 

Xanatos and Owen exchanged a look of mute surprise. Slowly a smile crept over Xanatos' saturnine face. Interesting indeed. So the mighty Macbeth had fallen under Cupid's spell as well. 

"Merely righting a wrong, m' lass," Macbeth explained as she grabbed his lapels, tears smudging her mascara. "Unfortunately the authorities may not share that opinion..." 

"You didn't..." she gasped. 

"According to the police, you nailed him. At least that's how Alex would put it..." Xanatos chuckled. 

"Oh Dios, no!" Lucia looked at him with a mix of horror and admiration. "You hit Cesar?" 

"Plastered him right in the jaw," Macbeth nodded. "It felt rather cathartic. The insolent pup was begging for it, I'd imagine." 

Lucia put a hand over her mouth, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Her expression said a little of both. Still she gripped his lapel with the other as his arms rested on her waist. The immortal king pulled her close, his face lowered over hers as she glanced deep into his eyes. They seemed lost in their own reality, as Goliath and Elisa were often wont to do. 

"I promised ye that ye'd be safe as long as I'm concerned. And I do keep my word..." Macbeth whispered into her ear. 

"Ahem... what about that other matter?" Owen reminded Xanatos. 

"Sorry to interrupt this rapturous reunion, but we have found the source of your... problem," Xanatos announced. 

"What problem?" Lucia and Macbeth asked together, their heads snapping around simultaneously. 

"You complained of pains," Xanatos shrugged. "If you'll come this way we have the answer in our infirmary..." 

"Did Demona..." Macbeth got out as they ushered him out of the room. Still his hand was clenched firmly in Lucia's. 

* * *

***

Angelina straightened up as she heard familiar voices down the hall. Already Keith and Sharon were talking animatedly to her, and Rachel was also present, very amazed at their ready acceptance of Angelina. 

"Lucia?" Keith and Sharon got up, and saw their friend, hand in hand with Macbeth. What the hell was going on here, Keith inwardly wondered. 

"What are they doing here of all places..." Macbeth tensed his hand within Lucia's, then his eyes darkened. 

"Demona!" 

Before he could leap on her in anger, Rachel got in his way. 

"No! It's not what you think!" 

In the meantime, Lina had climbed out of the bed, and was halfway across the floor. Her eyes were full of happiness, and glad tears. The Cuban girl gasped at the site of the gargoyle woman striding up to her with wings caped around her shoulders. 

"Do I know you?" Lucia asked, bewildered. Suddenly she was swept up in strong arms as Angelina hugged her tightly. Keith and Rachel, gurgling his protest restrained a shocked Macbeth. 

"Sharon... Keith?" Macbeth stammered out. "What in the Devil are you doing here?" 

"Don't go nuclear Mac!" Keith said. "She just saved everyone's ass in the labyrinth!" 

"OH I'm so glad you're alive my friend! But look at you," Angelina cried, holding her out at arm's length. "You're so young!" 

"Er... what's going on?" Lucia asked confused. From what she last remembered, a gargoyle very much like this one had tried to slay Macbeth! 

"This is Angelina..." Sharon explained. 

"She's like... Demona from an alternate sliders universe or something," Keith supplied. Lucia was very confused. 

"But... but..." Macbeth stammered. 

"It's true," she held out her hands. Rachel released Macbeth, who was stunned. 

"Macbeth... I am so sorry for all the pain I've caused you... over the centuries..." 

"How... is this possible..." he wondered. 

She pinched a fold of skin, and he winced. Understanding dawned in the steely blue eyes. "I don't know how it's possible... but we are..." she started. 

Everyone looked at Rachel. "Well, it's theoretically possible that at the instant of transition, the Macbeth of her reality died... and she bonded to our Macbeth... and since the enchantment was negated in this reality... but not in Angelina's..." 

"Whatever," Keith shook his head. 

"I see," Lucia nodded. "So you are bonded, in that same spell by the Weird sisters..." 

"Yes," she nodded. Macbeth shook his head, cursing something very unflattering in Gaelic. 

"I am sorry," she apologized. "I never meant to cause you more pain..." 

"This is major league heaviness," Keith shook his head. 

"But why are you here?" Macbeth stammered. "For what purpose?" 

"To save lives, I hope," Lina looked at him. 

"Hey Mac didn't you hear me when I said she saved everyone's ass in the Lab, like in the Hot Zone..." 

"Keith, put a sock in it!" Sharon hissed to him. 

"So what now?" Rachel asked Macbeth. "You have my word she is from another reality..." 

Macbeth sighed. "I dinna ken..." 

"Please, can there not be peace between us?" Angelina asked. "I am so sick of the fighting. I would hope we could be friends..." 

"Please..." Rachel said, eyes begging. Macbeth hated that look he couldn't resist over the centuries. 

"All right then, I give ye one chance. A truce fer now. But ye canna expect me t' accept all this at once..." he sighed deeply. Slowly she extended a talon, and he reached out a hand to her. Both clasped, feeling the odd sensation of each other's hands caressing. Shyly they both withdrew their hands. 

"Where did you get that cross?" Lucia asked, glancing at the silver crucifix at her throat. 

"You yourself gave it to me before I came here..." she said. "For luck. You always wore it after your Aunt Maya died..." 

"Dios... I would do that," Lucia muttered. 

"They share pain," Lucia wondered, and a wicked thought came to her mind. That thought of the time before, when she first learned of this whole enchantment. How much pleasure did they share? With a mischievous smile she walked over to Macbeth, and lay a soft kiss on his cheek. Angelina lightly brushed her own cheek in the corresponding place. Keith suddenly caught on to what was happening. 

Slowly she worked her way to his mouth, struggling to stand on tiptoes to reach him. Automatically he bent at the knees, lifting her to his level. Lina licked her lips, hungrily feeling the sweet sensation of hot breath in her mouth. Both of them hummed with content at the same time as Lucia withdrew. 

"Holy shit," Keith muttered. "Symbiosis!" 

"Sort of," Lina laughed a bit. This Keith certainly was refreshing, all full of piss and vinegar that the sarcastic embittered counterpart embodied in forty years. 

"Apparently we discovered, at one time... that we share each other's pleasure as well as each other's pain, whenever we are in proximity. However the pain is felt at a greater distance," Macbeth explained reluctantly. 

"So when did you two... become an item?" Sharon asked Lucia, pulling her over to one side while Keith listened to Macbeth and Lina. 

"Since two weeks ago," Lucia said matter-of-fact. 

"Why didn't you tell us," Sharon pulled her sleeve. 

"I didn't want a scandal..." 

"The fact he punched out your ex doesn't?" Sharon put in. 

"How did you know..." 

"Please, it was on the Campus news!" 

"Oh shit!" Lucia got out, before she clapped a hand over her mouth. Everyone looked in her direction. 

"I'm having a good influence on her already!" Keith laughed. "Sandra Dee has defected, ladies and gentlemen! Lucia has officially sworn her first good swear under duress!" 

"Young man," Macbeth started, his glare knocking Keith back into his seat. 

"Who, Mac, you stud muffin!" Keith laughed out loud. "Way to go!" 

Lucia and Mac shared the same blush of sheer embarrassment. 

"Virgin territory no longer!" Sharon laughed at Lucia, gripping her arms. 

"But I wasn't one to begin with..." she protested. Then she added in a whisper, "I only wish he was the one..." 

"Cinderella has found her Prince Charming!" Keith added smartly. "So where did she hide her glass shoe, eh Mac?" 

"If we're quite finished discussing Miss Dominguez and my personal business, can you tell me what the devil is going to happen next?" 

Macbeth folded his arms across his chest, casting his most stern schoolmaster's gaze yet at everyone. 

"Mac, lighten up already," Keith groaned. "We're all friends here. I mean like you and me... kicked major ass with Castaway..." 

"But Cesar is a quarrymen, and now you're in trouble for what you did," Lucia sighed at Macbeth, smacking him on the arm. 

"Yeah, and I quote, 'when you strike one Quarryman, you strike us all,' and I know he'd make good on that threat!" Sharon added, as if spitting a bad taste out of her mouth. "No telling what the hell they have planned." 

"There might be a way to find out," Lina muttered. 

"What are ya thinking?" Keith asked. 

"Do the Quarrymen take new recruits?" she asked. 

"Oh no, you're not going to..." Macbeth scolded. 

"How would you know unless you're psychic?" Lina asked him. "WE may share each other's pain but I doubt we share thoughts as Well..." 

"Might I suggest you and Lu keep a low profile?" Rachel put in. "I mean... you are a wanted man..." 

"Yes senior," Lucia scolded him. "You go home right now... before you decide to punch out any more of my ex boyfriends!" 

"Very Well," Macbeth reluctantly nodded. 

* * *

***

Many a rookie's eyes fell on the slender attractive redhead that strode into the 23rd precinct that morning. The spaghetti strap dress with the small pink flowers and the butterfly clips in her bobbed hair made an interesting combination. She carried a black purse slung across her body. 

"Heya, can I help you?" Officer Morgan asked, intercepting her as she stood before the main desk. 

"I'm here to see Captain Chavez?" she asked. 

"Your name miss..." 

"Er... Lina. Angelina... er... Wells..." she stammered out, fumbling for a name. "I'm a good friend of hers, and said that I had some information for her latest case..." 

"I'll take you back," Morgan offered. 

She glanced around at the repair crews still painting the walls here and there. "Been a while since the explosion, eh officer?" she asked Morgan. 

"Three years ago," he nodded. "Still picking up the pieces. Say, you look familiar Miss Wells. You sure you haven't been around here before..." 

"Captain Chavez and I went shopping a few days ago. Maybe you saw us in Little Cuba?" she laughed. 

"Maybe. Here you go. But try to make it quick... the Captain's a busy woman..." he urged. 

Morgan knocked on the door, and Chavez' curt "come in," didn't' surprise Lina. She seemed all business, the phone receiver cradled between her cheek and upraised shoulder. 

"Lina! What a surprise," she said, muffling the phone with her hand. 

"She said she knew you..." Morgan said. 

"I don't want to bother you if you're busy," Lina began. 

"No, no, no. Morgan, let them know to hold my calls for the next thirty minutes... oh, and could you get Bluestone in here when I'm done..." 

"Sure thing Captain..." Morgan nodded. The cacophony of the squadroom was banished as he closed the door behind him. 

"So what brings you for a visit?" Chavez asked, indicating the seat. 

"Wanted to see where I worked, eh Hon?" 

"I have an idea... to help prove Mac is innocent?" 

"Mac?" Chavez raised an eyebrow. 

"Lennox MacDuff. I heard he was arrested for punching a student. In fact he came to the infirmary with Lucia..." 

"With Lucia?" Chavez frowned. "Look, I know you're all worried about Lu and everything... but that case is under investigation..." 

"I would hate for him to be found guilty of something that was a misunderstanding... since Cesar has a history of battery and assault. Isn't domestic violence a crime?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Don't you know that Caesar hit Lucia?" 

"Of course... but... Lina... you shouldn't get involved in this. I care a great deal for you... but I have a job to do... and there are times that business and personal shouldn't mix..." 

"Even if I might be able to help as they say, put a lid on this case... or bring new evidence to light? Maria... please..." 

"All right," Chavez sighed, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. "What's on your mind?" 

"Undercover work. Someone should go undercover as a new quarryman recruit..." 

"I do have that angle covered, between you and me." 

"But if I know Castaway, he's already got that covered. And I have someone in mind that none would suspect..." Lina said. 

"Who?" 

"Me. I'm untraceable. IN this reality as a human I don't exist. No one can implicate me. Please..." she said, as Chavez began to shake her head. "Let me give something back for your kindness. If I can prove Mac was only acting in self defense..." 

* * *

***

"I still don't think this is a good idea for you to try this, Hon," Chavez shook her head as Mona, now calling herself Lina, showed up at the modest apartment building. 

"I need all the information I can get on the Quarrymen," said Lina. 

"Especially now that Mac's a wanted man..." 

"Mac?" Chavez asked, with a slight smile again. "You told me he's a friend of yours..." 

"Well I hope he'll find me to be one," Lina sighed. "And Robyn too..." 

They knocked on Matt's door. There was the dragging scrape of a pull chain, followed by the click of several dead bolts being drawn back. 

"It's Chavez. Can we come in?" 

Blue eyes glanced from the crack in the door. "Oh, Captain. Sorry, I just get a little bit jumpy... hunter's instinct... who is that with you?" 

"Lina Wells... she's a... niece of Dominique Destine..." Chavez said. "She wants to help stop the Quarrymen..." 

"What?" Robyn asked, totally confused. 

"Can you let us in?" 

Robyn gave Lina a glance mixed with anxious fear, and curiosity. As Lina followed Maria Chavez in, Robyn flinched at the similarity between Dominique, and this new arrival. Despite the different hairstyle, and younger face, she was almost the same! 

"Captain?" Robyn asked, shutting the door behind them. Still she kept her distance from Lina. 

"I know what you're thinking, Robyn," Lina said, holding out a hand. "I look exactly like the woman...whom your family hunted for years... but I assure you I'm not the same..." 

"How is this possible?" 

"Be prepared for a long story. But Lina has a plan to infiltrate the Quarrymen... and gather evidence that might help save a friend..." 

"All right, shoot," Robyn sighed. All three women sat down, Robyn glancing warily at Lina. Even though Chavez seemed very comfortable around her, Robyn's programmed Hunter instincts still screamed of possible foul play. 

"So... what do you need to know from me?" Robyn asked. She sat on the edge of her easy chair, while Chavez and Lina settled into Matt's sectional couch. 

"Any possible likes or dislikes Castaway has? What most likely might get her close? Any leads... anything," Chavez said. 

"How close do you plan on getting?" Robyn asked, looking doubtfully at Lina. 

"Close enough to convince them I am worth recruiting," said Lina. 

"But you realize he'll recognize you... since you look so much like Dominique... even though now I had to look twice to believe it..." 

"We can help with that," Maria grinned. "A little makeup, a little hair dye... hmm..." 

"Why are you doing this?" Robyn asked Lina. "If you're not Dominique... who the hell are you?" 

"Someone who knows Dominique even better then she knows herself," Lina glanced into Robyn's eyes. "Someone who knows all about the bitter feud between your family and the Demon. Someone who is very sorry for the pain she has caused the Canmores over the centuries..." 

"What..." Robyn's eyes narrowed. "Do you know about that?" 

"I'm very well acquainted with all of this. For I am not from this world, but one very much like it," Lina breathed. "I already told Maria here about my story. I don't know if you'll believe me or not. But I am what Demona could have been had she given up her hatred of humanity and joined in the fight to preserve her race..." 

"And I'm supposed to believe you're some... some... double of Demona that's gone good?" Robyn laughed. "That's a good one! Who or what are you really..." 

"I am or was Demona," she glanced levelly at Robyn. "Although in my reality you and I joined on the same side to fight against Xanatos." 

"What..." Robyn stammered out. "That... that's crazy..." 

"Be ready for a shock," said Maria. "It gets better..." 

* * *

***

"Are you sure that it's okay for you to be back here?" Molly asked Lucia. Both of them walked back towards the dormitory. 

"I can't live in fear, Molly," Lucia admitted. Her dark eyes fixed into Molly's blue ones. 

"Can't ya just move in with yer gentleman friend? I'm sure he'd be more then willing to put ya up!" 

"Ah Molly, it's not that simple! God knows I'd love to, but my Aunt might not approve! After all I am unmarried..." 

"Tosh, it's the twenty first century! You're a legal adult! What's to stop you?" 

"Molly, it's the principle. If I don't try to come back, he will have won. Cesar will have intimidated me, and that's as good as a Quarryman victory..." 

"I shuild know better then t' try arguing with you," Molly muttered, thrusting her hands into her leather jacket pockets. 

Lucia glanced up at the dormitory again. Swallowing, she took one step after the other towards the front door. Molly shook her head, and followed her friend. 

They scaled the stairs to the third floor, and Molly slipped the key into the lock. Friends smiled and waved as Lucia came by. Lucia dropped her bag once they got into the door. Things were a bit neater then usual, but so cramped compared to the open rooms of Macbeth's mansion. 

"What the heck is that?" Lucia asked, picking up a box that sat near her bed. 

"I don't know..." Molly muttered. Then her eyes grew bright. 

Lucia suddenly felt Molly throw her to one side. The box fell with a clatter to the floor. A loud scream rang in Lucia's ears as Molly struggled to push her out the door. 

Smoke and fire exploded the next moment. The world ended in a blaze of light far hotter then anything she could anticipate. A siren scream rung in Lucia's ears, cutting her consciousness blissfully from her subconscious. 

* * *

***

Windows rattled for two blocks. Chavez and Lina glanced at each other. "What the hell was that?" asked Lina, her eyes widening. 

"It came from the direction of NYU!" Robyn snapped. "Sounded like a plastique explosion too!" 

"NYU? Madre de Dios! I need to use your phone!" Chavez snapped. Leaping to her feet she stabbed buttons on Matt's phone. 

"Captain Chavez here! Bombing situation on NYU campus! Send units to investigate!" 

"No..." Lina gasped, her eyes widening in horror. "Lucia!" 

She was halfway out the door when Chavez joined her. Robyn watched in horror, and silently hoped none had perished. Together Chavez and Lina pounded down the stairwell to the front door, almost cracking the glass as they burst onto the street. 

"What part of Campus do you think?" Lina asked. 

"I don't know..." Chavez huffed. Matt Bluestone pulled up, in an unmarked car. They leapt inside and roared off towards where Lina had heard the blast. 

* * *

***

All around Canmore Hall swarmed the police and firefighters. A line of curious students was physically pushed back by uniformed officers. Shouts and crackling flames were drowned in the whoosh of hoses and loud piecing sirens. The top floor smoked with occasional tongues of fire. Rubble filled one stairwell to the east, and the other in the middle slowly belched clusters of students in the chaperone of firefighters. Stretchers were threaded through the fallen chunks of masonry and brick scattered on the sidewalk. 

"Lucia!" Maria Chavez shouted, as she climbed out of Matt's car. Lina was close behind the police captain, who automatically rushed up to the knot of police officers. 

"What the hell happened?" she asked them. 

"Bombing... incendiary... on the second floor..." Officer Morgan reported. "Real mess..." 

Lina slipped around the line of policemen as Carlos was struggling to get past Morgan and Elisa. Few noticed the young redhead creeping along the line of struggling refugees. Somehow Lina knew where Lucia must be under that mess. 

"Miss, you can't go there! Miss!" Morgan shouted. He saw the red headed woman Chavez had come with almost halfway to the stairwell filled with rubble. 

"But there are still two people trapped in there!" Lina protested. "Two friends of mine!" 

"You're not doing them any good by getting in the way, now please step back!" cried Morgan, gripping her arm gently yet firmly, and pulling her away. 

* * *

***

"Molly..." Lucia gasped. A scream rang in her ears, and for a moment Lucia wondered just what it was. It sounded much like a cross between a sonorous lullaby, and an air raid siren she'd remembered from a PBS special about the 1960's atomic bomb drills. That high shrill whining mingled with a woman's soprano tones. 

Over her, Molly crouched, and yet it wasn't Molly. A tall slender figure with long flowing hair drifted a foot above the floor. That siren song tumbled from between her lips, its blue crackling energy forming a shell of power for nearly a five foot radius. 

Lucia could only see the wisps of green cloth swirling around the slender legs, the long hair spilling and furling in a mystical wind. All around them the room shambles crumbled from the bomb blast. Sheets of sheer flame licked around their barrier. Yet it held proudly against the inferno. 

Slowly she tried to push up off the floor with both palms pressed flat. A sharp pain sent her screaming in agony, its white hot knives slipping up her arm. The figure's head flickered around and two white radiances fell upon Lucia with concern. 

"Who... what are you..." Lucia gasped. 

"That is a secret known only to a few, little one..." came the voice. Slowly Lucia was lifted in the power of her song, wrapped in solid blue sound which precipitated into blue eldritch fire. The sphere of sound burst through the wall of flame, which slowly was beaten back by a high compression hose. 

Till they both emerged in the still intact stairwell to the west. Suddenly the figure's song took an odd discordant shriek. Looking up, Lucia noticed the line of blood seeping down from the spring green gown. If she traced it up she could see pieces of metal protruding from a cut in the nymph's narrow bosom. "You're hurt!" Lucia gasped, and the sound stopped as they both hit the ground. 

"Iron... metal... lethal..." she wailed. Lucia struggled against pain to support the fallen figure. In reality it was featherweight, yet taller then she by at least a foot. Crackling flames hissed closer and closer. 

"Do not mind... mortal..." she gasped. Sights and sounds gelled around them when the blue nimbus faded. Lucia wasted no time in trying to figure this out, she wrapped the figure's arm around her neck and stumbled out of the way of the belching smoke. A high pressure hose shot through the stairwell, beating back the creeping flames. 

"There they are!" came the voices of men and women. 

Lucia grunted, fighting against the sharpness in her useless right arm. Had to get clear or the flames would sear them both. 

"Iron... deadly..." the sidthe lady coughed. Lucia gripped the piece of metal protruding from her chest. It was a bit of shrapnel from whatever bomb had gone off. Surely to tear it out would cause a bigger problem. But to leave it in? Her mind jumped at top speed. Iron... that creature... faerie? 

She pulled at the metal, gripping with her good hand. The fae let loose a wailing keen as it jarred free. Lucia pressed her hand to the wound to stanch the trickle of blood. Relief spread over her face as the metal came loose. Slowly the shape collapsed into the familiar form of Molly O'Keefe. 

"Thank... you..." she coughed, and passed out. Lucia soon followed as she collapsed beside her friend. 

"We've found two more!" came the voices that settled around them. 

"Get them outside!" 

* * *

*********************************************************************************

****

Epilogue: 

"It was a really bad explosion... it's a miracle either survived," the Doctor said as he regarded Maria Chavez. 

"Firebomb, ground zero," Chavez muttered. "How do you figure they survived?" 

"Your guess is as good as mine," the Doctor said. 

Lina looked from Chavez to Dr. Frazier, both of whom were relieved and flummoxed. At the back of her mind familiarity mated with recognition. Molly... O'Keefe. Where had she heard that name before in her time? 

"Is Miss O'Keefe all right?" Lina asked. 

"She took a load of shrapnel in the chest..." Dr. Frazier announced. "She bore the brunt of the explosion..." 

"Can we see her?" asked Lina. 

"We had to take quite a lot of the iron out of her," said the Doctor. "She'll be in surgery now. But you can see Miss Dominguez now..." 

"Let us know when Molly's out, okay?" Chavez asked, taking Lina's anxious shoulders as she guided her out of the room. 

"Will do..." 

* * *

***

Lucia slowly came around, feeling a strong hand pressing into hers. Slowly she blinked into the faces of her Aunt and Lina. 

"Hello sleeping beauty," Chavez grinned. 

"Molly!" Lucia gasped. 

"She's okay," Lina said, gripping Lucia's other hand. "Are you all right? We were so worried..." 

"Chicha," Maria sighed, stroking Lucia's forehead. "What happened?" 

"I remember Molly throwing me to the side... and there was a loud screaming... and then there was flames..." 

"What next?" Lina asked. 

"This is going to sound nuts, but it was the strangest thing. I don't know if it was a dream or not..." Lucia glanced up at her aunt glazedly. 

"I've been used to serious stuff. Tell me... it might help to pin the perpetrator down..." 

"It was as if there were some force shielding me from the blast. The next thing I know I woke up and I saw a strange blue light, and an odd wailing noise. Molly was gone... and there was this... woman in green... it was so weird. I thought I was hallucinating..." 

"Woman in green?" Maria asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Shh," said Lina. "Go on..." 

"She fell into my arms, grasping her chest. I helped pull her out of it..." Lucia shook her head. "It was as if the metal had... poisoned her. Did I dream it?" 

"Maybe," Chavez muttered, and saw the recognition in Lina's eyes. What revelations had her niece's words sparked in her new friend? 

Just then a stretcher was wheeled into the emergency room by a cluster of EMT's and medics. A redheaded woman breathed into a ventilator, with bags of saline dripping into a vein on one arm. "Molly!" Lucia gasped. 

"She'll live," they said as they pushed her into position. "She wanted to see you..." 

A pair of blue eyes fixed on Lucia, and they took the mask away. Weakly Molly reached a hand to Lucia across the gulf, till she was wheeled next to her roommate. 

"You're one brave young woman," Chavez said, coming over to Molly and touching her shoulder. 

"'Twas nothing... a friend wuild na ha done fer another," Molly shrugged. 

"Did they take all the shrapnel out?" Lina asked. Molly glanced over at the new voice, confusion in her eyes. 

"Aye they did. But who be ye?" 

"Lina," said Maria Chavez. "She's new in town." 

"Molly O'Keefe, you are a woman of many talents," said Lina carefully. "Maria and Lucia owe you more then you can imagine..." 

"And how wuild ye be knowing that?" Molly asked, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at Lina. 

"I know who you really are, Molly O'Keefe, or should I say, Banshee?" Lina winked. As Molly's mouth dropped open in protest, Lucia and Maria stared at Lina. 

"It's okay," Lina said. "I know. And the secret is safe..." 

"Banshee?" asked Lucia. "What has that to do with my weird dream? Did you really... put on a yard of hair... and two feet in height back there?" 

Molly glanced at the three women, and said nothing as she gave a mischievous wink. Slowly she dropped into wearied sleep. 

"Care to explain what that was about?" Lucia asked her aunt and Lina. 

* * *

***

Later, Molly surfaced from the pits of sleep. Weakly she turned her head to regard her roomate, whspering, "Lucia.. I...." 

Over her leaned Lucia, her arm wrapped in a sling. Softly she took her friend's hand, shushing her, "Shhh easy, Chica. Lina explained to us." 

Molly's eyes widened at the sound of the unfamiliar name, "Lina?" 

"The red haired knockout." Lucia indicated with a raised brow, tossing her head in the direction of where her aunt sat quietly with the other woman, who leaned her head on Chavez' shoulder. Lina was fast asleep next to Chavez, who was reading a magazine quietly. 

"H… how did she know?" Molly asked, gripping her roomate's arm. Still her grasp was weak. 

"Well, she's...hum... Demona's from another dimension. The one that Puck mimiced to fool Goliath, if I remember well." 

Molly's look of shock and confusion rivaled Lucia's of a few hours before. 

* * *

***

"So what is the Banshee exactly?" Maria Chavez asked, shifting the bag of groceries from one arm to the other. Lina grabbed the bag just before it toppled. 

"A member of the Third Race…" 

"Third Race?" 

"There are gargoyles, humans, and the Eldrich. Those that tap into magic instead of technology. Elves, faires, gods, whatever they are, they are real. And they are all collectively known as the third race…" 

"Wait, you mean elves really exist? Like in Aria?" 

"Exactly," Lina nodded, when Chavez fished out her keys from her purse. 

"So… let me get this straight. You said gods? Like Greek gods?" 

"They too are members of the Third Race…" 

"But where is this Third race today?" 

"They live in a realm of magic, called Avalon. A mystical island that supplies them with their nascent magic…" 

* * *

***

"Nooo!" Chavez screamed into the night. Sweat poured down her forehead in rivulets as she jerked awake. Around her the unforgiving night loomed with that same loneliness as before. Was she really awake to the reality that haunted her so many sleepless nights before. 

Across the dark the red lights of her alarm clock flickered out 3AM. Memories fell into place once again. Out of the darkness came a winged shape, its eyes red as the clock's LED. A voice whispered, "Maria, are you all right? I heard you scream…" 

"Lina…" Maria stammered out. Beside the bed the shape stopped, resting a twilight blue claw on Chavez' nightgowned shoulder. The large double bed seemed all too empty right now. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I had… a nightmare," Chavez glanced up at her. "I thought you would be asleep by now… but I guess that's stupid seeing you transform at night…" 

"Not really. I was catchign the late night shows. Didn't really feel tired tonight. But are you all right?" Lina asked, and slipped an arm around Maria's shaking shoulders. The police chief was strugglign not to appear overly vulnerable to her. 

"I'm fine… it's just an old dream…" Chavez sighed. 

"No it's not okay. That scream I've heard before… the scream of a mother who has lost her child…" 

"How do you…" Chavez asked. 

"I've screamed it too many times," Lina explained, and nudged beside her to sit on the edge of the bed. Her hip was warm against Chavez, comforting. 
    
    "Why am I not surprised…." 

"It's okay, you don't have to be strong all the time…" Lina felt herself saying. "Tell me about your daughter…" 

"My daughter… it has been a long time…" Chavez said, glancing up at Lina. She fought back the tears that threatened to form in her green eyes. 
    
    "Tell me," Lina whispered. "Please…" 

Gently Chavez stroked fingers through Lina's hair as Lina lay her head and shoulders on the older woman's lap. "It was a long time ago…" 

* * *


	5. Lucia under siege

****

Last Rest Denied

__

Part 5

There she was before him, his Queen. Soft white skin, pale as the moon's face, rose petal lips breathing his name. He plunged his hand into fire gold hair, longing to caress her soft scalp again. After ten centuries the images had not faded in their intensity.

"My husband, my love, and my king," she breathed, opening her arms to him.

"Ah Gruoch, how I have missed thee," he sighed.

Green eyes lifted to his, the green of the forests of Scotland. He didn't even bother to question how his black armor had changed into 11th century tunic and leggings... complete with the sigil of Moray around his neck, and the gold crown upon his brow. Its weight was a welcome friend, as was the feel of his sword at his hip again.

How lovely she looked in that emerald gown, which draped over her form in all the right places! He blushed to think of thinking such thoughts. Yet she blushed when their hands touched, and fingers intertwined. Small light hands with long fingers enmeshed in his large strong hands. Perhaps it was just as well he had tarnished with age from the Bargain, for she would grow old, as he remained unchanged.

"You had bid me farewell, husband," she looked up to him.

"Aye, but ye wouldna mind if I had the pleasure of enjoyin yer company again... would ye?"

"Not at all," she breathed. "But you are mistaken, I am very much here..."

Coyly she smiled up at him, her arched brows lifting teasingly. Beside his powerful frame she was delicate, but strong in her own way. Silent and gently fingering his silver thick hair. Abandoning any further questions of how he arrived here, MacBeth wrapped her close in his muscled arms. Her rose petal lips hungrily found his.

"My love..." she whispered, reaching for the fastenings on his cape. Slowly it drifted to the floor. They were at Castle Moray, its banners and stone walls comforting and cool. Sad to think it would be devoured in flames, which made it all the more miraculous that it existed now! Her tongue traced along his earlobe gently shivering him to another deep kiss. MacBeth unfastened her cloak, then continued to run his hands down to her chest, and she laughed softly. Lips formed into a knowing smile as her fingers pulled gently at his swordbelt. The weapon clattered to the floor, atop her discarded cloak.

"And I thought ye were the shy one," MacBeth chuckled, stroking her chin.

"Me?" she laughed, her hands slipping under his tunic. His fingers unfastened the sash about her waist. Gently he tugged her gown down around her shoulders. Their lips met in a fierce hungry kiss, Gruoch ripping his tunic from his shoulders. Her fingernails buried into his silvery hair, tunneling over to his scalp. With a mighty laugh he scooped her up, carrying her effortlessly to their bed. He pulled the gown off completely, as she helped him shed the remainder of any hindering garments.

He kissed a path down her breasts to her stomach, as she kissed her own path to his chest. Hands stroked over his powerful shoulderblades, and over her smooth sculpted ones. Grey eyes widened as he felt her hands tracing downwards boldly. Laughing they rolled over till she was beneath him, a contented smile on her face. She struggled to mold her soft body into his strong one. They spent much time caressing and holding each other, till their mutual need could no longer be denied.

"I must be one with you again!" she panted, pressing gentle kisses to his ear, nibbling his bearded cheek.

"As you wish, my queen," he sighed with delight. He was lost in her hair when he felt her pleading to take her then and there. Fortunately he was already up to the task

"Take me now, my husband!" she cried, fingernails digging into his back. It had been too long, she murmured, devouring his firm mouth. Under his lips hers were soft and warm, sharing their life's breath. Her body was a gentle cushion that greatly desired his weight. Writhing in ecstasy beneath him she moaned, sweat soaked hair slipping through his fingers.

"Ah my Gruoch... my queen..."

"MacBeth... my one and only love..." she shrieked to the heavens.

"Lennox, Madre de Dios!"

"What?" he gasped, hearing her voice, but the words were strange. How would Gruoch know his modern moniker? Shocked, he straightened up, still firmly inside her. Confusion spread when his hands were immersed in curly locks, black and resilient, instead of Gruoch's silken mane. Against his skin hers was a few shades of caramel cinnamon.

"Oho! Mmmmm!" purred her voice as she was wrapped in his arms, in the throws of passion. "What a nice surprise..."

MacBeth blinked again, and glanced around at the room. Gone were the castle walls of Moray, yielding to modern ones covered in gilt. A fire still burned, though dying down a bit in intensity, yet still enough to see the hues of dark eyes glancing up at him with deep love and affection. She was sturdy and strong, not as slender as Gruoch but graceful. A name faltered on his lips, as he still straddled her hips. Carmel breasts curved underneath a black lace teddy, which had slipped up to the verge of her stomach.

"Who is Gruoch anyway?" she grinned.

"Lucia..." he gasped, shifting to withdraw from her in an awkward panic. "I must apologize..."

"Hey senior, I'm not complaining," she wrapped her arms around him invitingly, holding him firmly in place. "I've heard of people walking and talking in their sleep. This is the first time I've had someone making love in their sleep!"

"But to take you in your sleep..." he stammered.

"Shh," she kissed away his protests. "I trust you. And umm... it's delicious... don't you dare stop now!"

MacBeth sighed with relief, realizing that one, she wasn't scared, and two he was too aroused to find any other reason not to continue where his dream left off. But to his dismay his wandering mind had a rather adverse affect. Lucia noticed, but made no comment, and said, "Tell me about your wife... what was she like?"

"What do... ah... ye wish t' know?" he asked, as she kissed him softly.

"You haven't given me much to go on. Like what did she look like, for instance?" She asked, touching his nose with her finger. MacBeth had to admit this was the most bizarre place and time he'd even had a conversation quite like this one. Halfway in the throws of passion, speaking about his beloved Gruoch to the woman he was planning to marry in this time.

"Hmm... Well..." he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. "Lovely. Such a gently creature. With eyes like the forest in spring... face white as the cheeks of the moon... hair as spun fire and gold..." His voice lowered, sultry and accented as it ensnared Lucia in its spell.

She smiled, feeling his gentle caresses. "You must have loved her very much... to remember her after so much time..."

"Aye," he nodded, feeling the firmness coming strong again. "Strange... I'd be thinkin' of her nau!"

"I bet..." she giggled.

"Ye dinna... mind that I spoke her name..." he said softly, as she rested her head on his chest.

"I think it's romantic," she sighed, relaxing beside him. Lennox reached for her, and they picked up where his dream had left off.

"I'm sorry... lass," he lifted his head to look at her, stroking her cheek after they were done.

"No, it's okay," she kissed him lightly.

"But I shirked in my responsibility..." he started again.

"It was mine this time..." she assured him. This brought a look of surprise from him. Lucia's voice tapered off into the dark, and she lay there for a good amount of time. Had she fallen asleep from his ministrations? He moved up beside her, as she began to pant from his weight pressing down on her. "Lass, what is on yer mind...?" he asked, tracing a finger along her earlobe. "Ye seem... a bit preoccupied... are ye not happy here?"

"Well, your wife... when you described her..." she began. "It made me think..."

"About what?" he asked, a bit concerned.

"That mirror..."

"Mirror?"

"Titania's mirror. I need to see it again... to answer a question that's been bugging me..."

"Such a powerful item is not a thing t' be trifled wi," he cautioned, his voice taking on the schoolmaster's tone.

"That's why... I want you to look at it with me..." she said glancing up at him.

"Why is it important t' ye lass?"

"I saw things in there... and you had said it was a window to the past, present and future..."

"As well as other realities," he added.

"I have to know, MacBeth," she glanced up at him. "Who that woman I saw in the mirror was..."

"All right then, we do it together," he nodded, knowing she wasn't going to get any sleep otherwise.

MacBeth took her hand in his, leading her through his home with an ease that defied explanation. Before, she had blundered into the room by accident. Lights flickered, and the power had died out... even his backup generation seemed to be failing. Yet he clutched a candle in hand, reverently as they approached the chamber.

Both wore bathrobes about their forms, his a deep blue velvet, hers the crème satin one he'd given them after their first night of passion. She realized later he had someone from his house staff take the trouble to go out and buy it shortly after he'd arrived. So it would be waiting for her the next morning when she woke.

Vine wrapped pillars and sculptures cast odd shadows. The room was along one corridor, which wrapped around the upper level of the central area. Three floors, and the high stained glass windows shone under the radiance of a full moon.

She had to admit she was scared, but his hand gripped hers protectively. Somewhere out of time and space they seemed as he opened the door, and walked in. He told her to stand to one side, as he took a silver wand, and whisked the tarp off. He handed her the candle, bidding her to hold tightly to her crucifix.

A Latin phrase tumbled from his lips, as his hand moved. It was a ward of protection he'd learned against enchantments. Lucia glanced into the mirror, as he came to stand just out of view.

"What do ye see..."

"Only... myself..." she shook her head, and looked harder. In the flickering candlelight her gown seemed to glow around her naked form. Beside her, MacBeth stood powerful and strong, his face not visible for he stood to one side.

The image blurred slightly, and she gasped in fear. Macbeth's hand clamped down on her shoulder, biding her to be brave. She saw the image of a woman, hair whitened with age as she staggered about in a blazing inferno. Then a specter of death seemed to float just above her shoulder.

"Madre de Dios!" she shrieked, and made the sign of the cross as she jumped into his arms. Protectively he held her close, as she shook.

"I'm here my love," he whispered, quieting her with shushing noises. "But ye must face it..."

"I..." she gasped, then stopped. For the image had changed. Again she saw the King, mighty and strong as he held someone close in his arms. A rich red cape dripped from his shoulder, the gold glistening at his throat and brow. MacBeth stood before the mirror, releasing her gently as he beheld his own reflection there. Oddly he realized that was exactly how he was garbed in the dream. Perhaps late in his reign.

"Incredible," she said, glancing at him. "That was you... but what century..."

"Perhaps the tenth year of ma reign," he said casually, turning his head this way and that. Somehow his casual approach gave her courage.

"Y' see... lass... it is safe..." he urged. "Come... stand before it..."

At his side a woman, dressed in green stood. Lucia saw her hands moving at the same time as her white satin sleeved arm. A red headed beauty stood next to the King, a veil covering her head and shoulders with a golden crown, much in the style of a European monarch.

"Dear God," MacBeth gasped, as Lucia shook her head. He lifted his hand, and the King did the same. Lucia shivered, hugging herself, and the woman in the mirror also did the same.

"That's her!" she pointed, and the red headed queen pointed back. "But she looked younger when I first saw her... The Lady in the mirror. MacBeth, who is she?"

"My wife," he answered, dumbfounded.

Shock hit Lucia, and she almost lost her footing as he held her close. "What... does this mean... I'm no redhead... I can't be..."

"Do ye believe in reincarnation, lass?" he asked her.

"There's no way... I'm a Christian... I don't believe that a soul is reborn..."

"Nevertheless the Mirror doesn't lie about this. For plain enau I was King, and that was the very image of me..."

"You mean that I was... once... with you in Scotland... in 1035?" Lucia glanced at him. "I've never had any of those crazy past life... this is impossible..."

"I know it's frightening," he gripped her close. "But don't you see... it explains everything!"

" Did you have any idea?" she demanded, gripping his robe.

"No," he said. "Not at first. But you and I... so comfortable together. When ye first saw me, did ye feel any sense of recognition?"

"Well I've always been... into history. I used to have dreams of being in the Middle Ages... but I thought it was my imagination... I can't believe I'm saying this... its madness!"

Silence passed between them, and their mirror selves shared the look of confusion and shock. "Is this...why you fell in love with me perhaps?" she asked him. There, it had been said. The relationship stated clear for them both.

"I had no idea..." he shook his head. "But would it matter now? I bade her goodbye, so that I could love you now..."

"Are you sure?" she turned his question back on him.

"The woman you are now I love," MacBeth said. "Whether you are my Gruoch or not. You are Lucia Dominguez now, and the woman I love..."

He leaned down and kissed her softly, and she stood on tiptoes to accept the delicious kiss. Around her his arms folded protectively, and she relaxed, knowing that she was where she wanted to be. However in their latest kiss she glimpsed an image forming in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. She pulled away from MacBeth with a cry of alarm. "Are ye allright…"

"Lennox… look!" she pointed.

Within the mirror they suddenly glanced something very disturbing. Lucia grabbed his hand as she pointed and let out a cry of shock. MacBeth pushed her next to him, reaching for the cloth to throw it back over lest something pop out. Images blurred and shifted, and they saw fire, and smoke burning deeply.

"Good God, what is that?" Lucia whispered.

"Future or past," MacBeth muttered. They saw his estate, his place here and now, but there was hot searing heat that radiated from the mirror, and their reflections were but a dim cast on the surface. Neither wanted to look, yet neither dared not, for something told MacBeth he had to see this.

Their images blurred again, and standing in Lucia's place was a woman that resembled her exactly, save her skin was wrinkled with age, and her hair was streaked with white. Instead of the long white gown, she wore a long cloak that half hid her body. Next to her MacBeth stood, arrayed in the armor that Lucia had discovered in his private armory. The armor that she knew he had donned to attack the Quarrymen when Carlos was in the hospital those months ago. Never had she seen him wearing it before her, but she saw the menacing look it presented.

"That's you… and…"

"You've never seen me such," he murmured, both ashamed and curious at her wide eyed expression seeing him standing there in long black coat, holstering a lightning gun and accepting the armaments the woman was handing him. They seemed anxious, and as the MacBeth image stepped back, he saw many others in the room, standing there. MacBeth's eyes widened as he saw what appeared to be gargoyles, those of the Manhattan clan clustered about, buckling on weapons that were identical to his in design.

"What is all this?" Lucia asked. "You said you'd hunted Gargoyles… the one known as Demona only…"

"I've never hurt them deliberately. Only used them as a means to get to Demona… but now… this is something that has never happened," MacBeth shook his head and clutched Lucia's hand as he pulled her back. He wanted to chant some dispel that would banish the images, but he dared not. So far all he'd seen was himself getting armed and ready.

"Is that me…" she pointed to the older woman, and saw the flash of white armor, identical in design to MacBeth's. The entire scene suddenly rattled and shivered in ripples, stone and smoke obscuring it. They saw the terror on the faces of all those huddled inside, and flashes of fire without sound.

Back and forth ran unfamiliar and familiar gargoyles and humans, tossing weapons and kicking out windows to place their guns in them and open fire on some unseen enemy. Lucia saw her older self, rushing to throw controls and pick up modern weapons that she had seen in his armory, only far more formidable. Shoulder mounted versions of the small 'lightening gun' he'd shown her as part of the arsenal when she'd asked.

Another black coated figure raced across that was not MacBeth, but identically dressed. Armor was dark green, disappearing under a similar long coat. His stature and stance was identical, but as his face came into view, she saw MacBeth stare in horror. His face blanched white as if he'd seen a ghost.

Features much like MacBeth's were framed with dark brown hair and a goatee in the style of Xanatos rather than himself. Grey blue eyes were the identical steely flashes of his, but the skin was dark and the same shade as her own. In some ways he was a younger version of the man who stood before her, but not exactly.

"Luach, but it's impossible," MacBeth mumbled as he saw the man. "It cannae be…"

"He looks exactly like you," she whispered. Before they could see any more the man folded both of them to him in an embrace, before rushing to the side of an ebony skinned gargoyle with ruby red hair. Then out of the mess, MacBeth saw his old enemy, in golden battle armor, toting a gun and appearing to be rushing him and the future Lucia away from bits of falling masonry. Roof collapsed, and the images dissolved into smoke and fire.

MacBeth felt his blood run cold, and quickly threw the cloth over the mirror. He wanted to see no more of this nightmare vision that made no sense. Besides it was terrifying Lucia, who clung to him tightly with wide eyes. He led her slowly away; taking her hand and backing towards the door with his hand tightly enclosed around hers.

When he had pushed her out, he closed the door firmly. Lucia turned to him, trembling as she saw the horror on his face, and put her hand before her mouth. She opened her lips to say something, but found she had no question to express the sheer dumbfoundedness she experienced.

"I have no idea what that is," he whispered finally as they stood apart, both lost in their shock.

"You said it could be past and future. Could that be OUR future?" she asked, swallowing hard. "It looked like World War III… and that man who looked like you… you called him Luach…"

"He looked exactly like my own son so many centuries ago," MacBeth closed his eyes in pain. "The one who became King when I was 'killed'. When I lost her…"

"Madre," Lucia whispered as she walked over and hugged him tightly. "But that isn't the past… could that be your son… our son?"

"I'm not capable of giving ye children," MacBeth said softly. "Not now…"

"That doesn't matter, but don't you see… it COULD happen… because he looked sort of like me…" she whispered, rocking him. "If that WAS what may yet come to pass…"

"There is no way to be certain, my love," whispered MacBeth as he urged her to walk away from the chamber, and down to the second floor staircase that led to their bedroom. He wanted to put as much distance between that confusing vision and themselves as possible. In space as well as time.

"All those gargoyles and humans in your house... that was your living room… and that armor I was wearing…"

MacBeth shivered and took her hand tightly. "I need to show ye something," he said with a dry mouth.

"What?" she asked. "Lennox… could it happen that there'd be a time when we'd all be fighting for our lives like that? They were all in pain, and that gargoyle with the blue skin… she was Demona…"

"Aye, and she was in my home, our home," MacBeth whispered. "Not as an enemy, but as an ally. And the woman we met… the Demona…"

"Is this the reality she comes from?" asked Lucia with a sad shake of her head as she followed MacBeth through the empty house, past rooms and bookcases towards his sparring chamber. Here the large cases with weaponry and antique armor were apparent, and she saw as he switched on more lights, and pressed a button to reveal several panels that turned around. She'd seen the armor there, hanging that very first night she'd seen him. The lightening guns and stealth weapons… the net gun.

"It must be," he said.

"I've seen this all before. All of this… was in that image we saw. And that Demona was the Lina we know now… it DID happen. We were seeing her world… and our place in it," Lucia whispered. However MacBeth had disappeared into a closet, and brought out something else, wrapped in protective cloths. He began to lay it out on the table nearby, and Lucia rushed over.

"I've been making something. Long before any of this happened. When Cesar hurt you I started on it," he said, reaching his hand out to her. Lucia saw the gleam of white kevlar, and her blood ran cold. It was a full suit of armor, identical in design but made for a woman. She reached out to pick up the gloves and run them through her hands.

"This is… this is…"

"I'd made ye a suit of armor, since I'd promised t' teach ye to defend yerself. Ever in the event that something happened. I'd not meant ye to ever fight as I do, but t'would be for yer own protection if you ever came with me… and seeing as ye are spirited you'd insist I'd take you…" his voice trailed off. Lucia felt a knot in her throat as he threw a cloth over it, and turned away.

"You were thinking of me, together with you in every way," she whispered.

"I can understand if ye'd think me mad. And if ye'd want nothing to do wi' this aspect o' my life. I have no business exposing ye t' such dangers… I fear that Castaway… Canmore is out there. And he means t' harm yer friends, my students. And I cannae allow him t' do that… but I cannae allow ye to come to harm."

"Lennox… MacBeth," she whispered as she moved over and hugged him from behind. "That vision of the future, or her reality… there was hope. That man… was our son… and if it should come to pass in whatever form, I was at your side then. And I'm at your side now…"

MacBeth turned to her, and caught her up in his arms. Their lips met in a hard kiss, and he gripped her tightly, fearing she'd slip away if he let go.

Chavez early the next morning brought her new charge into the station to answer the inevitable questioning surrounding the bombing. All of the employees glanced up at the dark hared captain walking alongside the redheaded woman. They could swear she looked familiar.

"Look at that, I could swear I've seen that face," Officer Morgan muttered as Matt Bluestone walked by with a morning cup of joe.

"Give me a break I'm still waking up," Bluestone waved him off.

"No, I'm serious. She looks familiar…"

"Oh her? You mean that Dominique Destine lookalike?" Matt said as he blinked at her. "Seems like there are more people that look alike the longer we're in the business. Get used to it…"

"But…"

"Morgan, leave my partner alone and let me have a turn bugging him ok?" Elisa said as she got up from her desk and saw Matt Bluestones irritated look.

"All yours Detective," he said. "Later…"

"Thanks," Matt mumbled as he plunked down his mug on the desk opposite Elisa's and flopped equally inelegantly into his chair. He caught the edge of the table to stop from shooting back with the force of his landing.

"I owed you one… you look like hell…"

"I feel like hell," Matt mumbled. "I've been taking statements till 2 in the morning from everyone in that dorm… what's YOUR excuse for looking all bright eyed and bushytailed?"

"Some efficient night work," Elisa winked.

"Don't tell me that THEY helped you. That's NOT fair," he mumbled.

"Let's just say our hacker friend made things a whole lot easier. That, and a phone call from one of our other friends…"

"Who?" Matt mumbled, contemplating the chocolate donut that sat in the bag on his desk from yesterday. It would only be a tad bit stale, and food was food. A flash of his mom nagging him about finding a nice girl to take care of him echoed momentarily, and he grabbed the waxed paper bag to interrupt it.

"Lu's roomate," said Elisa as she sat down, and ran her fingers over the keyboard of her computer. A few message windows popped up, and Matt heard the 'ding' indicating a new message.

"She finally woke up?" asked Matt.

"Yep, and looks like the caseloads shifted so we can talk to her… providing we get through questioning that kid who got picked up and put in the holding tank," Elisa said. "He hasn't sung yet, has he?"

"Nope. I got a memo from the Captain waiting for me to come in and soften him up till you came in… you think we can get him to crack?"

"I dunno, but I'm anxious to talk to this Molly O'Keefe… something's mighty strange about it. She saved Lucia's life in the middle of an explosion… and that's just not…"

"Normal?" Matt chuckled, biting into his half stale donut, too ravenous to care. "Since when was THAT the case?"

"I talked to Goliath," she said as she leaned over. "He sounded quite interested when I filled him in… and asked if they'd seen anything strange beforehand… on patrol the night before… and then last night I got Lex to do some background checks on all the dorm buddies. Molly's a member of the Pit crew, and she spoke against Cesar in Lu's case… and the hospital said she wanted to talk to me."

"How did she know you…" he got out, stopping in mid chew.

"She asked for me. Detective Elisa Maza. I thought that was weird. So I asked Lex to run a make on her. Turns out that she didn't exist in any database before coming here to the US. Interpol shows some spotty records, but the birth registry, everything was lost in some big computer crash."

"In other words she doesn't exist?" Matt winced.

"Yeah. And I'm thinking this is TOO convenient."

Captain Chavez wandered out of her office, headed straight for them. She seemed extremely disturbed, even more so than both of them normally saw her. Both had a feeling they knew the reason. "What's up Chief?" Elisa asked.

"There you are… you need to get over to the hospital right away and interview that witness. She asked for you…"

"Captain, I've got that session with the suspect you wanted me to…"

"Let Bluestone handle it. You go to the hospital and see Ms. Dominguez roomate. I think you need to hear what she has to say. And after that, I'll meet you by Professor MacDuff's place…"

"Professor MacDuff?" Bluestone grinned.

"Something funny, Bluestone?" Chavez tossed a sharp look at him. "There's a guy in holding cell B who's looking for a breakfast date…"

"Um yes Ma'am… but I thought that Molly O'Keefe already spoke to you…"

"Hop to it, see what he knows. I want those people responsible for this explosion. And I want them now. That man's our only link…"

"Right!" he nodded and scrambled out of his seat, grabbing his coffee and a donut as he rushed over to get out of range of the Captain, who was leaning intently over Maza's desk.

"Captain, I understand you want us to nail them, because of what's going on, but I don't see why talking to Ms. O'Keefe's gonna…"

"I know there's a few things that you and I don't dare discuss outside of here, Maza," said Chavez in a low murmur. "And you need to be in on this thing. I don't have much time to explain, but it explains why Lucia survived. And maybe she can be of some help in the case. I'm getting nowhere with THAT trash," she nodded in the direction of the holding cell.

"You interrogated him, huh?"

"Kid's an arrogant punk all right. No respect for authority, unless I scream at him. I want you and Molly O'Keefe working together. Her talents… might be useful to get this guy to sing… but I need you totally in on this… and that's why you need to talk to her…"

"Captain, I'm not following you. This woman has no past…"

"And you'll find out why, Maza. I'm hoping Matt can get this kid to sing. He's got some inside track on making people confess… especially Quarrymen in training…"

"I'm not even gonna ask how or why," Elisa muttered, guessing the reason. Most of the Quarrymen knew her as a 'gargoyle lover' from their runins. Having Elisa on interrogation was a sure-fire way to get them to keep quiet. Whereas Matt had a few lines from his Illuminati friends who had a few secrets that might cause their student suspect to be more enthusiastic… Realizing she wasn't going to get Chavez to drop it about the Molly girl, she excused herself and walked out the door.

No sooner had she left than the phone jangled, and interrupted them both. Matt grabbed it before Chavez could, and said, "Talk to me… Bluestone… yes… she's here… yeah… who is this? Mac?"

"Who?" Chavez asked.

"Some guy named MacDuff. That professor you brought in who got charged with aggravated assault…"

"Let me speak to him," said Chavez. Bluestone handed her the phone, and she spoke in a friendly tone to the man on the other end. Not bothering to question this, he returned to the task of finishing his morning coffee.


	6. Wierd resolution

Part 6

Lucia took a deep breath, and squeezed the trigger. It was the smallest of his weapons but potent. She'd jokingly compared it to a midi cricket in MIB, when Sharon and Keith were speaking of their 'training.' Keith shouldered a large laser rifle, and set its haft into the hollow of his shoulder. He aimed, and then landed on his butt with the kickback. In the shooting lane next to him, Sharon fired her own rifle, and compensated for the movement with a twist of her torso.

"Excellent," MacBeth said as he stood behind the glass, watching each of their progressions.

The sound of footsteps echoed, and MacBeth depressed a button with his black gloved hand. "Mr. Yale, yer late," he scolded.

"Sorry Prof. Mac, had a run in with the witch of the north..."

"How unfortunate for her and ye no doubt. Well, pick yer weapon and arm yerself. Dinna forget the ear protection this time," MacBeth said firmly. It was ironic how he'd used this same course to train Banquo and Fleance when they worked for him. He'd never thought he'd be using it again. Now the three students, dressed in gray armor similar in design to his erstwhile hired muscle, were familiarizing themselves with the same weapons.

With a twist. Banquo and Fleance knew his secrets, and he had anticipated them. Any counter-armament developed on the Quarryman side was given was countermanded on the PIT side from an unlikely source. HE leafed through the computer file that Robyn Canmore had given him. She went by Corey now, having shunned the Hunter Name in favor of cooperating with the police. However, she had shuddered to even dream of associating herself in any way except as an informant. Parole violation was something you didn't mess with.

Lucia nervously wandered into the gallery, watching her fellow students fire off round after round. Mobile targets and conventional ones were being singed and missed by the three. Bill Yale chose the laser rifle, and hefted it like a pro, standing next to Sharon on her other side. Carlos was swinging a staff around in his hands, sparring with some unknown person as he practiced the patented moves he'd learned. On some days MacBeth still returned to class, and his students would take their private lessons through Robyn, or another source.

"Are you sure this is REALLY necessary?" asked someone next to him. MacBeth sensed the presence and turned to face the woman whose face he knew in his worst dreams and nightmares.

"Ye of all people shuidna ask THAT," he said pointedly, scowling at her.

"I heard you were asking Robyn for information... I had no idea this was what you were doing," Lina said softly, her hair a coppery gold instead of the bright red of her double.

"Tis nae concern of yers," MacBeth repeated. "Carlos, follow through..."

"Do you think yourself some Professor X..." Lina said, before MacBeth turned on her.

"And what wuild ye have me do, lass?" he snapped. "Stand by whilst Canmore sucks more innocents in? Nae, I must fight. I've taken the cowards way for FAR too long..."

"Your efforts are noble, MacBeth," Lina said as she shook her head. "But futile. Canmore knows ALL your secrets..."

"There are few that he does know. Ye didna think that I'd have a backup plan fer incase Banquo and Fleance betrayed me? Did my doppelganger make such a sloppy mistake?"

"No," said Lina, with a sigh. MacBeth had lost track of the time, and Lina put a hand to her head, grasping her stomach. MacBeth knew the pain she faced. Apologetically she backed out of the room, letting out her moans as he did the same.

"I'm sorry..." she winced as he huddled on the floor. "I shouldn't be here..."

MacBeth panted, as she helped him up, and let her do so. She was so unlike the other half he knew from this time, it was crazy. Lina glanced at him, her own face midnight blue absent of a gold crest, and her wings caped. He could swear she resembled her early self, back when they were allies, not enemies. Sadness filled her dark eyes, and she saw his harsh look fade into question.

"Tis not yer fault," he muttered as he turned away, and she stood there, helpless.

"It is, if I hadn't come here... we wouldn't be again linked..."

"We're pawns o' fate aren't we?" MacBeth laughed bitterly as he collapsed into a chair. "In this universe or the other..."

"The Weird sisters," nodded Lina, as she sat opposite him, and her face held nothing but deep respect and shared sadness.

"Tell me, just HOW did you and I..."

"Bury the hatchet?" Lina supplied. "Are you sure you wish to know?"

"Aye, that I do," he nodded.

"It was after Thailog saw what Xanatos had become. After I joined those in the labyrinth... and I showed up on your doorstep..."

"Go on..."

"There is little else to tell," she said. "Other than the fact that you and I realized we had a choice. Kill one another or band together and face the hatred of a common foe for all time..."

"And we were still linked?"

"Yes," Lina said. "As we are now..."

"My counterpart, how similar were we?"

"Very much so..."

"I've seen this future, and it disturbs me. What disturbs me more is the lack of hope it sheds. And yet I know that if I do not act, it may be far worse..."

"I can't answer that. But I'm tired of fighting... God knows why you're not..."

"Are you saying I should do nothing?" MacBeth scowled.

"No," she sighed. "What I mean is... oh never mind..."

"Demona... Lina..." he got out. "What would ye have me do?"

"Only what you feel is best. I don't know if being here will help or harm this universe..."

"Did ye perhaps think that there might be some way to return to yours, and stop what happened?" MacBeth asked. "If such a thing were possible, would you be able to stop it?"

"How could I return?"

"We both know the answer to that. There be a member of the Manhattan clan who can help ye. And perhaps someone else..."

"MacBeth, you can't ask me to go back?"

"If ye could, wouldn't it be far better to much about in your own universe than sit here and be afraid to act? Yer no the Demona I named..."

"You can't ask me to face it..."

"And you are nae help hiding in the shadows," MacBeth said bitterly. "I didna ASK for yer help, lass. And since ye see fit t' vex me wi' warnings, I see nae reason for yer to remain here unless ye have the express purpose o' helping."

"I suppose I deserved that," she said as she shrugged and looked small in her wings.

"Perhaps ye did," MacBeth said. "But that's YER problem. Leave me t' handle things ma ain way, unless ye intend to help..."

Firming her chin, she wiped away tears. He was right, even though he was being harsh and bitter. The ache closed around her heart, and she knew what she had to do. Increase the distance between them. In that simple way she could help keep from distracting him regarding the pain of her transformation. "MacBeth," she said finally.

"Yes?" he asked turning slightly from where he was looking.

"I am sorry," she said.

"Tis little help," he said firmly.

"I want to help you, but..."

"But WHAT? Have ye lost the desire t' survive to protect yer clan?" MacBeth snapped. "If this is the change that brought about our allegiance perhaps it'd be far better we remained enemies! The Demona in this universe is a ruthless cruel demon, but she cares enough to fight fer what she believes in, no matter how twisted. Her own species survival. Ye've run away..."

"Don't say that... you have no right..." Lina gasped, feeling anger boil up in her.

"I will not remain silent on this issue. Unless ye leave now and trouble me nae more," MacBeth snarled. "Get oot of ma house and let me do what I will! Save me yer useless defeatist prattle... and go hide!"

"You have NO idea!" she snarled. "What I faced... how DARE you..."

"NAE how DARE ye! Yer a coward! Nae worthy t' stand in my presence woman... begone with ye now before I throw ye out!"

"Why you insolent... self-righteous..." she snarled, her eyes flaring red as she leapt to her feet. "How DARE you..."

"Go on, away with ye!" MacBeth taunted. He saw the fangs bared and the hair fluffed out as she snarled and leapt on him with her claws out. He let her knock him down and dig her claws into his armor, as he looked up at her steely and defiant. For a moment she wanted to tear his throat out, but he didn't fight back.

"You have NO place to say these things!" she snarled. "NO Place!"

"Indeed I do, since were' linked again," MacBeth said in a low tone. "Unless ye want to end it now. Either way, tis yer choice. Go ahead and strike me down. End it fer all time if ye have the courage. Otherwise, get out of my sight. Or make a damn choice..."

Her crimson rage faded, and Lina's eyes widened as she released MacBeth. She leapt off him, retreated as if he'd slapped her. Glancing down at her crooked talons she shuddered, huddling in a corner. Her whole body quaked, and she began to cry. "You... you did that deliberately, making me angry... so I'd fight you..." she sniffled.

MacBeth let a small smile twist the corners of his lips. "And ye have the gall t' claim ye have no stomach t' fight? I'd say there was a bit of the fire still left within ye yet..."

Realization dawned, and she put her hands to her head, weeping. "God, you are so cruel... you can't..."

"What does it matter?" MacBeth asked coldly as he rose to his feet. "What I think. Obviously it doesn't t' ye."

"IT does matter," she said as she wiped at her tears. "You son of a bitch..."

"Now THAT's the Demona I know, the one I named," MacBeth said as he glanced down at her tear stained face. He crouched by her, and she faced him, her eyes flaring crimson.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked plaintively.

"Make a choice, lass," MacBeth said softly. He held out a hand to her, and she put her talon around his. Shakily she stood with his aid and looked at him with fear and anger mingled on her features.

"Even if I do tell you, there's no guarantee that it will make a difference," she sniffled. "I don't want you to die knowing that I was the cause..."

"Not deciding is a choice as well," MacBeth sighed.

"I know that... I just forgot how well you knew me..." she trailed off as she kept his hand around hers. "Just like my MacBeth... the one in my universe. Filled with fire and fight like the king you still are... you've got a terrible fight ahead..."

"And will it make a difference if the Demona in this time shuild join me or no?" MacBeth asked.

"I can't say," she sighed. "All I know is I have a choice. To stay here and help you, or to go back to my universe... I just don't know if I can... and now that we are linked..."

"There's only one being, or three that can help determine that," MacBeth said gravely. "They claimed they are responsible and I doubt the Weird sisters of yer world wanted this to happen. They said that we would destroy one another. They do not like it when others tamper with their spells... I think they would favor whatever decision ye make, providing it is out of preservation... if it benefits them. If humanity were destroyed, there is no fate for them to perturb..."

"Are you suggesting that I use the phoenix gate, or ask Ray...?" she asked.

"Only way you can determine that is by asking," said MacBeth. "Either way, tis far better than skulking in shadow regretting yer past..."

"You are a fool," she said with a sad smile as she embraced him, and held him close. "But you are right as ever. I have made a choice. And it's time I acted upon it. Time I took control..."

"Then do it," MacBeth nodded. He kissed her forehead and released her as she let go. Understanding passed between them, and with a flutter of wings and a thud of steps she was gone.

MacBeth sighed, and then exited the room. He strode along the way till he entered the shooting gallery and saw his protégées working to perfect their skills. Lucia seemed angry, vexed by her lack of proficiency. MacBeth held a finger to his lips as he moved up behind her, and Keith spotted him. Unaware, she aimed again at the target, while the immortal stood behind her.

"Shit," she muttered.

"Relax yerself," MacBeth urged, reaching around her so his hand was atop hers. "Ye are far too tight in the wrists... stand wi yer feet apart... I thought ye'd said ye'd shot a gun before..."

"Caramba!" she cried, almost dropping the gun. MacBeth held her close to his back and took the gun from her hand before she could cause an accident.

"Anything can happen," he said with a chuckle. "Now, do ye want my help or no..."

"Isn't that... being partial?"

"Shaddup and let him help ya," Carlos muttered. "And let us get back to work..."

"I should be able to..." she muttered but MacBeth stood so his arms were positioned around her body.

"Let me help... ye close the one hand around the handle as this, and hold it up to aim. Yer letting yer wrists lock because ye're forgetting it's a gun as the same as those ye are familiar with. Same principle though it shoots electricity..."

"Yes," she nodded. "How foolish of me..."

"Now... set the charge wi' yer thumb, like on an automatic. Take a breath, aim, and let it go..."

Lucia did so, and felt herself slam into his chest as she neglected to account for the kickback. It seemed so easy when he did it. "Crap," she muttered.

"Two handed or one..." he said as he held it up, and motioned for her to stand beside him. "This be one handed, ye make a solid line, stand with one foot before the other, and let yer body arch to take the brunt. Follow through and let it push back, but hold yer ground. Tis a kickback for such a small weapon..."

It seemed so easy as he aimed and fired. His tall body flared white hot as the lightning arc hissed and singed the target fifty yards distant. She saw his knees were bent, and how he let his hand move in the traditional follow through with a twist. It was a subtle arching of his chest and shoulders, so he absorbed the shock. Of course, widen the base and change your center of gravity. Turning he saw her hand reaching for the gun. Saying nothing he saw her stand in the pose, and nodded as he crossed his arms. She noticed the strange and distinctive armor gleaming under his long black coat. Red lining contrasted well with the black, and she diverted her attention to the feel of the weapon. A second later and it was done, and she was still standing albeit a bit shakily.

"Much better," he nodded. "Only way to learn is by doing..."

She smiled with some satisfaction while MacBeth moved down the line and inspected the stances of everyone shooting. Carlos swung hard while the immortal wasn't looking, and MacBeth whirled, to grab the end of his staff, and twist it around. He knocked the teen on his backside. Carlos rolled over and pushed up against MacBeth's knee to wrestle it back.

"Not bad, but still rough," MacBeth grunted. "Keep practicing..."

"Whatever you say sir," Carlos panted, letting the mentor help him up. Keith and Sharon glanced at their watches, and then to MacBeth. He nodded, and both set down their weapons to quickly rush out to the changing room. Bill Yale returned to his shooting, and Carlos tapped him on the shoulder. Nodding, he grabbed the staff that MacBeth tossed him and both of them walked in the direction of the gym.

That left Lucia alone, firing at the targets with greater skill. MacBeth admired how the armor flattered her body, its sleek black lines contouring every curve. He knew the reason for everyone' exit varied. Sharon and Keith had a class, Bill and Carlos often sparred, then ate dinner. Both of them saw his reason and silent nod. It was clear what the relationship between the professor and his last student was.

"Time t' stop, and break fer dinner, lass," MacBeth said firmly. Lucia didn't move from where she was firing.

"Just a moment... I've almost got this..."

"Tis laudable yer dedication, but yer aim will suffer if yer brain is muddle with hunger," MacBeth said as he wandered over and stood discreetly behind her.

"I just want to improve... I know I can..." she said as she loosed off a last shot. However she had forgotten to stand, and MacBeth anticipated her body flying back to knock off balance.

"Indeed ye are," he reassured her as she turned around and found his arms around her. "But tis a time t' fight and a time to take repast. And yer auntie will be very annoyed with me if I dinnae take proper care of her favorite niece..."

"I don't want to have special treatment, really," she said firmly.

"There's no denying I canne promise that, while we're alone," he said with a forgiving smile. "And tis all right considering the complexity of the situation..."

"You're so not fair," she chuckled, and he took the lightening gun from her fingers, slipping it into the holster at her hip. His fingers were gloved and she didn't feel but shivered all the same. Still he towered over her, his height and mass increased by his armor. It was the modern day equivalent of the nights of old. Her friends had similar designs, but she guessed hers was closest to a custom fit like his, while the others were what remained from his hired help.

"I know," he nodded. "And what pray tell are ye going t' do about it, eh?"

"King's privilege, Senior?" she teased back, liking the feel of his arms around her. Oddly though they could not touch one another this heightened the sudden bolt of desire flooding her body. He must have noticed too because he pulled her quickly to him, and her hips close to his as he kissed her firmly. Powerful hands boosted her up and set her on the ledge of the shooting ally. Parting her thighs he moved between them and pressed his armored body close to hers. She panted deeply seeing the gleam in his eyes that had shifted from commander to intimate hunger for her and her alone. It was sobering and staggering to know that he remembered their relationship so easily while training.

"One ye've fair earned, and would do yerself good to avail yerself of more often," he whispered. She caught his lips again in a kiss, and moaned as he pressed closer to her so their bodies were pressed tightly. Only the armor separated them, and he repositioned her arms so they were around his shoulders and her head was tilted to one side so he could maximize the sweetness of their kiss. For centuries MacBeth had honed the perfect way to kiss a woman, so that she felt the desire creep over her as it continued and deepened. How could one so experienced find pleasure in one so inexperienced, she momentarily doubted. However, she knew the answer, and reassured herself that she had made her feelings known before, and they were reciprocated not out of pity, but out of genuine attraction.

"Lennox," she moaned as he broke the kiss for breath.

"Lucia,' he muttered, his eyes dark with desire. Fingers tangled in her hair, and his breath heaved against her, fanning her ear with it heat.

"Here?" she chuckled.

"Someplace more... discreet perhaps," he whispered. Simultaneously MacBeth boosted her up in his arms and sealed off her next words with his mouth on hers. Armor pressed to armor, and Lucia felt her desire awakening. All shivering fears were replaced with shivering of what happened between a man and woman this close. Under her breastplate pounded her heart and she gasped for breath giddily as MacBeth released her lips from his. Dios she wanted him to continue, and her skin crawled feeling the armor was far too tight for her body now. Easily he boosted her up and carried her with his hands on her hips towards the spa. Entering, he carried her toward one of the massage tables. Setting her down, he cast her a suggestive glance, and she smiled her assent. She sighed as he pressed her down, and then kissed her, leaning over her. Gliding hands over her body; he removed a few pieces of her armor, and let them drop on the floor. When she wore the body suit underneath, he whispered something into her ear. It was maddening and exciting because she couldn't touch him, but he could touch her.

"I know, but I AM a bit worried..." she muttered, almost wishing he hadn't heard because it seemed trivial.

"Trust me, tis not a hazard to ye,' he whispered against her lips. Her body, clad only in the body stocking underneath, pressed against his hard armored one, and she felt the difference and her skin crawling. He gently caressed her, covering her with soft kisses that increased in vigor. His nose nuzzled her neck, and she moaned, seizing his ear as she did what he wanted. Likewise, MacBeth knew what she wanted, and complied as he pulled her closely to him.

MacBeth felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he turned to gently pull Lucia to his hips again.

"Are ye all right, love?" he whispered, caressing her scalp.

"Dios, did you feel something... weird?"

"Mmm, if I did, it shouldna matter, but it may be better to take this someplace much more private," MacBeth said, realizing something HAD happened. His skin prickled with the shivering shards of icy time, and he knew it involved something basic. However, he didn't want to frighten Lucia, so he shook it aside. He hated interruptions, and it had been longer than he wished between times of lovemaking.

Pieces of his armor had fallen to the floor besides hers. He handed her his coat so she could throw it around herself in lieu of a robe, while he gathered them up and stowed them into a bag nearby. Lucia made to climb off the table, but he waved her off with a smile, letting her know that he could handle things. There were few men who were so attenuated to a woman's needs for modesty. MacBeth wanted her to be able to control when and how her body was to be viewed by him, because Cesar had taken that right away from her.

When he was done, he turned to her and picked her up. Slinging her over one broad shoulder and walking easily with her weight supported on his body. With his free hand he grabbed the bag with his armor and hers, then strode out the door quickly.

"You don't have to carry me around," she laughed.

"Yes I do," he countered. "I suggest ye enjoy it, because it's not every day that I have such a privilege of carrying his lovely lady to her chambers ..."

The female gargoyle moved into view, her wings caped as she wiped sweat from her brow. A small smile came over her face, and she knew the other benefit of their shared bond at such proximity. Although she missed her mate Brooklyn, Lina could at least experience the warmth second hand. All his joys and happiness became hers, and she saw the source of his strength.

"Kinda poetic, huh?" said Keith, and she turned to glance at him.

"We all should be so fortunate," Lina nodded sadly. "I trust you and Sharon have found such happiness..."

"Hey, we try," Keith grinned. "Apart from her preferences..."

"Such things are trivial in the grand scheme..." Lina nodded, glancing wistfully up the stairs.

"Um, I meant to ask you, Lina... it's a personal question..."

"There are few things I'd hide from you," she laughed deeply. "What do you wish to know?"

"Did you and Mac ever... you know..." he raised an eyebrow. "I know you guys feel each other's pain and all... but does the same thing apply to um..."

"Sex?" she said, and Keith flushed. "Don't look so shocked... you have such open talk of things in this time..."

"Um yeah but um... you're well... um..."

"The answer to your first question is yes," she said. "Back when I played a nasty trick on him... when we were married..."

"Married?" Keith almost choked.

"It was a plot to gain MacBeth's wealth," Lina said, not looking directly at Keith. "Unfortunately I realize looking back how mean spirited it was. Another way I tried to punish him for..."

"Shit, sorry," Keith said. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Lina smiled and touched her face where he'd done so.

"It's kind of you, but unnecessary," she said wistfully. "I'm used to being alone."

"So was he," Keith pointed up the stairs. "And um, you ARE together till death do you part..."

"In an odd way, yes," Lina shrugged, and smiled sadly. The one constant in the crazy world had been her bond with MacBeth. Always a score to settle, the driving force that kept her going was hate. Now he'd reminded her of this, but it dawned on her he'd done it out of concern for her, and great respect for what might have been in some eerie way.

Leaning forwards she returned Keith's kiss, and walked out of the hallway into the main chamber of MacBeth's estate. He'd made it clear what her choice was, and she wondered if she wanted to stay anywhere else. Chavez said she'd always have a place, and yet Demona remembered when she had come here in the other lifetime, to settle the score. Her lips still felt the kiss that he'd given her before she'd fought Xanatos.

"You are a fool, Demona," she whispered to herself, and cursed again her choices. To stay or go, or perhaps find some way to help. Then her memory flickered, and she walked up the stairs quickly, then ran on all fours in her gargoyle form to the door at the top of the third level, covered in gilt.

"It must still be there, if this is the same," she nodded. Slowly Lina opened the door, and saw the object standing near a wall. A tarp was draped over, and she swallowed at the realization. Why had he ended up with Titania's mirror? She knew the answer. Because that PUCK had given it to him.

"For such a purpose," Lina said as she strode forth, and picked up a piece of chalk. She began to draw lines around the mirror, and hunted for whatever items she could lay her hands on. The pattern was set, and painfully familiar, and she had to do something. MacBeth had to live, he just had to. Not out of a selfish need, but out of guilt for interrupting what could have been a normal end?

Whisking off the cloth, Lina stared into the surface, seeing herself as she was. She hadn't practiced sorcery in ages, but the words of power came to her lips. Carefully she examined the room, and found the items she knew MacBeth had there. All his magical trinkets and sorcery items he kept up here, and she saw his protective wards so the magics would not cross contaminate. She lit a candle, and then ignited the brazier. Then she dropped piles of colored white pebbles at the focal points of the pentagram. Next came silver and gold, and she found a silver goblet. Reaching up she slid off the gold armlet that she still had from centuries, and held it up.

Words she wrestled to her lips, and spit them out in her melodic voice. Would he come? She began to chant the spell to summon, even with the feather blown towards the mirror. Rippling like water it moved, and there came a whoosh of energy that blasted her.

"Well, long time no see... but you are not what you appear to be, are you..." Puck said, looking somewhat amused, and somewhat perturbed.

"You know that I'm not the Demona you know," said Lina. "And I want to start by apologizing for..."

"Spare me, toots," Puck laughed as he zipped around the mirror, and then sat on top to peer down at her. "Wipe that frown off your face already. You're bumming ME out! So... what'll it be... out with it..."

"I suppose you already know what's transpired," Lina said as she glanced up at Puck.

"That's obvious by now... so what's weighting on your mind? Feeling survivor's guilt? You wanna go back or something?"

"I'd like to play a game, actually," Lina said with a smile. Puck's eyes widened, and he smiled as well.

"Now THAT proves you aren't the same garg babe," Puck shook his head. "Lay it on me... twenty questions, yes or no, no animal vegetable or mineral..."

"That would be the rules. My first question to you is, is it possible to return to my universe using your magic?"

"Nope, and yes," Puck said. "Depends on what you mean by YOUR universe..."

"If yes, is it possible to return to a time before I left..."

"Yeppers," he said.

"And if so, could I control the time of my arrival, counting from the time of my immanent departure?" she asked, feeling impatient.

"Depends," Puck said as he orbited both the mirror and her, before floating over her left shoulder. "Time's not exactly my specialty..."

"Could I somehow ask a boon perhaps... of them..." Lina trailed off.

"Oooohooo are you SURE you want to bring them in, toots?" Puck asked.

"I hate it when you answer a question with a question," she mumbled. "Look, I know that the reason you said no was because you cannot use your magic directly. Can you teach Alex the spell to return me..."

"Um let me see... nope, not NOW anyway," Puck said. "Depends on if you like waiting. And considering YOU'RE the lucky one tied to Kingey, you'll have lots of practice..."

"Could the gargoyle Rayna perhaps assist me?"

"Um, maybe," Puck said. "You've got fifteen left."

"Could the technology exist right now, in our present day, to send me back... a matter transporter..."

"Two questions in one, buzz. You lose all your questions, sweetstuff," Puck teased. "But good game. For your sport and attempt I'll toss you a bone. Your buddy Ray is a step on the right path, but question is, do you want to go back?"

"I do, if it will save MacBeth," Lina said firmly.

"Umm, are you SURE?" Puck asked as he whispered in her ear. "Think about it... you're linked to him... and the other Demona in this world isn't... so there IS an advantage here. Just think of what you could do... if things were different..."

"But this is not my universe. I am hiding here when I could be of use there..." Lina said. "I know if I try to change the past, it is immutable. Yet this is another world where the pattern is set, but because I'm external, I might make a change where I could not..."

"Aren't we bold," Puck chuckled. "Well, I'd definitely put my money on the Time Lord, since you were the one who zapped her into what she is. You don't need MY blessing for this, sweetie. But then again, maybe it'd be better if you didn't do anything."

"Isn't it always that way?" she sighed, closing her eyes as she felt a low growl come from her throat. "All right Puck, you may go..."

"Ciau," he waved. "And um, next time, tell ol' man Mac that he needs to dust the mirror once in a while? I can't tell if I have dandruff or not..."

They wandered through the house, MacBeth still bare chested with a towel hanging round his neck, with Lucia slung over one shoulder wearing his long black coat. Smiles and hushed giggles were shared between them, and he could swear he felt centuries younger. "I'm a right cradle robber," he muttered to himself. "Going through a midlife crisis... that's how they'll see it... but to hell with 'em. If it be centuries past would not be frowned upon..."

"No it wouldn't," Lina said as she saw MacBeth carrying Lucia up the stairs. She shrieked with laughter, and it was a welcome sound to the museum of a house. MacBeth turned and stopped, seeing Lina there. His eyes gleamed with questions as he faced her.  
Lucia glanced from behind him, and sensed the tension crackling between the two. Lina's pupils were dilated, and she appeared to glow as MacBeth was now doing. Grey blue eyes met hers, and he said, "You're still here I see..."

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something..."

"The mirror," MacBeth said quietly, and set Lucia down. "Why don't ye hurry on to our room, and I'll join ye soon..."

"No, I want to hear what she has to say, Lennox," Lucia protested as he pushed her cautiously behind him. "If I'm sharing your life I need to know..."

"She is right, MacBeth," Lina said quickly. "If she's to be your wife, she's entitled to know what's happened... because it affects you both, or could..."

"Ye summoned puck, I trust," MacBeth said warily, drawing Lucia to his side. She clutched the ends of his coat around her, and met Lina's gaze with apprehension. What caught her eyes was the crucifix that dangled around the gargoyle neck, and she increased her grip on MacBeth. Protectively his grip increased on her as well.

"Your words were not wasted," Lina said clearly. "And I need to know what you want.... What you think should be best... because of the bond we now share..."

"Rather generous of you to ask first," he said.

"Lennox please... she's trying to help..."

"Hush love, if yer to watch, then let me speak to her openly, and plainly," MacBeth urged.

"You're right to do what you did, and I suppose I am a coward. Help me now, to best help you... in the words of Jerry McGuire..."

"If you say ye had me at hello, I'll be very cross," MacBeth muttered, and Lucia groaned at his dour humor. "So, I'm right. What have ye decided?"

"If I stay, your immortality is linked to mine. I'd be an ally, not an enemy, and your fate would be linked to mine. The outcome would be positive... but if I were to leave, there is no telling what could happen. Perhaps it would be best, because you could live out the rest of your days with the woman you love..."

Lucia blushed, and MacBeth's eyes narrowed. "You would do such a thing... to benefit me? Would that be the right or the wrong thing to do?"

"Your immortality would serve to insure that you and I will survive to thwart whatever evil," Lina said. "But the chance of you living a normal life... don't you see why it's up to you?"

"Wait..." Lucia said quickly. "Can I say something?"

"She's your love," Lina said. "She's part of this decision."

MacBeth sighed. "Ye are right. Lucia, what would ye have me do? Have the chance to live the rest of my years with ye, and perhaps be able to do what a husband should? Is it true that I have a son... in that other reality?"

"Yes, it is," she said with a half smile. "And I have a daughter..."

"Whist ye," MacBeth's jaw dropped. "Tis possible? But in that reality ye and I were immortal!"

"I know it seems farfetched, but it did happen... but I'm not sure if I should say any more," Lina said with a shake of her head.

"Lina, you mean he and I... I mean I'm going to have a son... and it's possible even if you're both immortal?"

"Yes... but that is my universe. Here, I can't say that it wold be any better..."

"But it is differe4nt. You're here. And by your being here..." MacBeth trailed off.

"I could damn the world if I leave it, and if I stay..." she trailed off.

"What would the weird sisters think about this?" Lucia asked. Both looked at her, knowing she was right.

"Tis something that I had overlooked," MacBeth muttered bitterly.

"I know," said Lina. "Would I be allowed to return? Because the other choice depends on whether or not I can return to my world, and perhaps stop this from happening..."

"If such a thing were possible..." MacBeth trailed off. "I cannot say which choice would be better. Seeing as your world there was destruction..."

"But the Demona of your world would never have the chance to be redeemed," Lina said softly. "As long as I am here, I make that chance impossible. And that was the one thing that kept hope alive. I may sound arrogant, but it was the bond that we shared, that showed me that I could change... and if there is any chance that Angela..."

She snapped shut her eyes, and tears flowed as she glanced away. Something arose in her, because she felt fear, and Lucia felt MacBeth's body tensing. Both of them locked eyes, and then MacBeth pushed her gently away. "Whist ye... do you feel that?"

"Yes... after so long..."

"What?" Lucia asked.

"Ye shouldna be here, my love... I don't want anything to happen to ye..." MacBeth choked. "Please trust me on this... ye must leave and not return till I come to get you... I dinna want ye to see me like..."

"Like what?"

"Please girl, do it," Lina said quickly. Lucia backed away, feeling the building up of something that buzzed inside her head, and made her heart pound. The wind inside the house wuthered, and whistled, whipping MacBeth's and Lina's hair about their faces. They seemed to draw together, till they were back to back, like opposite poles of a magnet.

"Run!" MacBeth shouted. Lucia dashed away, cursing herself for obeying him, but knew that tone of voice was not to be questioned.

Still she hid behind the door, hearing the loud quickening wind, and the shouts coming from MacBeth and Lina. Something tore at her, and she couldn't help but want to know what it was, and what it involved. Creeping on tiptoes she walked out, seeing the flash of blinding silver radiance blazing through the door cracks.

She crept out, moving along the wall painted in firey liquid silver and gold. Everything blazed brighter than the sun, and she heard three voices in unison echoing, full of power and timeless age. Peering around the wall she saw the source. Or rather sources.

"You have remained here ere long," said the first, her gold molten locks falling around her shoulders.

"Time screams its wounded breath across the strings of fate," said the fire haired sister in the middle, her eyes blazing green as emeralds.

"Tis not for you to judge the balance of fate, lost daughter of the Hecate," said the ebon haired one, who was on the far right. All three levitated in the radiance of gleaming silver that dimmed to a level Lucia could stand to gaze upon. MacBeth writhed in the eldritch fire; his back to Lina's as they were lifted in the triple spiral that swirled around them. They were caught, trapped and unable to move in the face of the power that ensnared them.

"What do you want of me?" MacBeth almost shouted.

"The question is, what does SHE want of you, or herself," answered Phoebe.

Luna said, "Your presence was known to us, but is a danger to this world."

"Every moment you remain, you seek to destroy what you came to save," Selene chimed in, with the same voice.

"It wasn't my choice!" Lina cried.

"Choice or no choice, you are here now," said Luna.

"And you must ere depart, for it is not your place," said Selene.

"For you to decide what must be," said Phoebe.

"The bond betwixt you is renewed," said Luna.

"And there is cause for this to be so. You are but opposite poles of a magnet..."

"Essential to this worlds life and limb," said the third. "You are as ever our children..."

"Ever and eternal bound, as one," said Luna. "And what you seek, you will find..."

"We see the pattern you have set, will be necessary..."

"But only by your absence can it play out," said Selene.

"We grant you a boon, a reward for services rendered," said Luna.

"What do you mean..." trailed off Lina.

"You must leave... and return whence you came..." said Selene.

"And the door of Fate will carry you there..." said Luna.

"For the threads of order must be kept 'ere from fraying..."

"You do not belong to this world, child," said Luna.

"Then I must go back... but what of MacBeth..."

"You know the answer," said Selene. Three sisters raised their fingers, and a sphere of light widened. The door to Titania's mirror opened and there came a jerking tug. MacBeth felt Lina pushing against him instead of pulling, and she shot forwards.

"What are ye doing to her?" MacBeth shouted.

"You should not ask, for it is not in your hands," said the three together.

_"What was rent asunder shall be healed_

_For the other world's fate be sealed_

_Broken threads of shimmering fate_

_We return your daughter as of late_

_That she may by her presence fair_

_Return her realm to time repair_

_Fourscore and twenty hours before_

_To stop the metal one from his score..._

_Traverse the walls of time and space_

_And be forever within your place!"_

"No! You can't do this!" came a loud voice. The sisters turned, and heard a loud ringing sound that came from a geological hammer tapped on a steel plate. Screaming they put their hands over their ears. Lina and MacBeth dropped to the floor, gasping as the eldritch fire ceased.

Lucia saw a green skinned gargoyle standing there holding the items, her eyes dark with anger. She approached, holding the ice axe before her like a totem. All three sisters held their hands before their faces as the gargoyle strode up, and faced them. "Who are you to interfere... cease now!" Luna gasped, her beauty withering to a sick green.

"They're lying to you," Ray said firmly as she paced a half circle around the sisters, and then moved to stand between Lina and the weird ones. "They aren't going to send you back..."

"How can you..." got out Lina.

"How were we wrong," MacBeth muttered as he saw Rayna's imperious glance.

"Simple. Your universe no longer exists. The explosion created by Lex destroyed it. If you go back, you go to your oblivion."

"You know nothing," hissed Phoebe.

"I beg to differ. You're not the ONLY beings capable of time bending. You don't' want to take this up with the Madam President and the HIGH COUNCIL of Gallifrey do you?" Ray said firmly, light flashing off the geological hammer. Even its reflection could cause them pain, for they each held their hands before their faces as she beamed the light in their path.

"So... what are ye trying to say, Ray?" MacBeth asked, moving back towards where Lucia was standing by the wall, shivering in fear.

"That they have NO intention of any benevolent action," Ray said. "Lina, you must deny them. Deny what they are about to do. If you deny them authority over you, they cannot win..."

"You have no authority here, Time Lady, you relinquished your role... when you changed your shape!" Luna pointed a warted finger at her.

"Shut up," Ray hissed, her eyes flaring crimson. "Lina, MacBeth, they've been using you for too long. You have the power to resist them. They promised to Goliath that they would release you from their spell. They renigged, and for that, they could get into LOTS of trouble if Big Daddy Oberon hears of this..."

"You wouldn't dare... mortal," said Phoebe.

"You wanna take me up on it?" Ray smirked. MacBeth blinked, and Lina slowly smiled in understanding.

"Yes, of course," Lina nodded, and then something fell into place. All the times when she was on Earth, and the fae were in exile, Ray did have some run ins with them.

"Beltane, 700 years ago. Before I met you, MacBeth," Ray smiled. MacBeth's eyes widened. However he knew better than to ask, because she'd tell him in due time.

"Enough of this idle prattle. This concerns her, not you," Luna broke in, pointing to Lina. "Even if you COULD interfere, this is NOT your place to say..."

"That's the point. Why don't you ask Lina here if she wants to go back?" Ray said firmly, hands on her hips. "What do YOU want, Lina?"

"She knows not of what she speaks..." Phoebe said quickly, appealing to Lina. "We can send you home...she's trying to distract you. Can you not see we only want to help you?"

"I was wrong to suggest this," MacBeth muttered, as Lucia glanced anxiously at him. "Ray, are ye sure tat they are..."

"Have they ever been honest with you?" Ray asked.

"Enough of this. We offer you a choice. You may return and have the chance to save your universe..." said Phoebe. "Let us send you home... and you can right the wrongs..."

Lina let Ray help her up, and then glanced at MacBeth. The Weird sisters drifted back as Ray still held her ice axe up before them. As long as they were in proximity, it could cause pain. However, could she trust this chance that was too good to be true?

"My home is here, now," Lina said as she faced the sisters.

"But you could at least see your loved ones again, say farewell," Phoebe implored, her eyes blue and bright. "Think of it as a reward for all the services we've asked of you..."

"No. I'm home."

"You see, she's made up her mind," said Ray.

"You will stay under our enchantment, if you stay," said the three together. "Be warned..."

"I thank ye to leave ma house now," MacBeth said firmly. "Yer no invited here... go mess up someone else's life..."

"Leave us, leave me alone," Lina said angrily. "I have no need for your help..."

Lucia glanced at the three, and they seemed troubled as Ray stepped forwards with her geological hammer, poised to strike the metal plate in her hand. "You want another recitation? I can do an encore... maybe the anvil chorus..."

Another series of sharp taps produced sharp rings, and the sisters wailed in pain. Clutching their ears they retreated towards Titania's mirror. Lina stood up, and backed over to stand by MacBeth and Lucia. Ray moved between the two, and the three, and stood firm and fast, her wings spread to their full span. The three gasped, their voices pleading for mercy.

"Enough, we hear," said Luna.

"Your point is made, so is her choice..." said Phoebe.

"We will ere depart... but not before one last word..."

"Say it and go hence," MacBeth barked.

"Despair not, for your service will be rewarded," the three said. "You will see the passing of the next generation and she whom we have returned will be at your side in the times to come..."

Lucia shivered, seeing the eyes that burned through the walls with some x-ray vision. They looked directly at her, and the expression told her they knew she was there. A siren song compelled her to move close, and MacBeth shouted his protest. Legs moved of their own accord, no movement was of her choice. Only to walk, heart pounding in fear towards the three fates.

"Little one, the torch will pass ere long," said the silver haired fate.

"And you must be ever strong..." said the blonde.

"That future which you within you carry..."

"Will be for the greater light, extraordinary..."

"Not her, don't mix her up in this..." MacBeth shouted.

"She is already part of the warp and woof," they said together. "For light is balanced by dark, and both shall meet in the middle of chaos, to start anew..."

"Ye will not mix her up! Go!' MacBeth shouted. Ray raised her hammer, but as she was about to strike, a blinding radiance shot forth. There came a blast of wind, and something reached to pull them back through the interface of the deep depths of fluid time. Through the doorway of Titania's mirror they stepped, and were swallowed.

Lucia hugged MacBeth tightly, and looked up at him with questions in her eyes. Lina turned, and looked gratefully at Ray. "How did you know... how can you be sure?"

"She would know," MacBeth answered. "Of all, she's one that I've come to trust, in the centuries..."

"It is simple, Lina," said Ray as she saw the tears forming in the dark eyes. As she stepped forwards she brushed Lina's scarlet locks from her face.

"You said my universe was destroyed, is that true?" Lina asked.

"Yes," said Ray with a nod. "You survived because you were disassembled in the moment..."

"I knew, but I didn't want to believe," Lina closed her eyes.

"It's as if your world never existed," said Ray, stroking her cheek. "So you have to stay."

"So, if they sent me back, there would be no place for me to go, except to my death..." Lina shivered, and she caught Ray's arms and squeezed, tears dripping to the carpeted floor under her toes. "God..."

"I'm sorry, I didna know," MacBeth sighed. "I shuildna put it up to ye..."

"It's all right... you were right. I can't just sit back and do nothing. I have to fight here and now. To save this world from the fate mine faced. And I promise I will. But in my own way, MacBeth. I'll help by telling whatever I know... but I need to think of a plan..."

"Ye... are welcome t' remain here..." MacBeth started.

"No, I think you deserve some time without pain," Lina's lip twitched. "I am going home... where I've been offered a place..."

"I'll be happy to fly back with you to Chavez's, if that's where you're going..."

"Yes Ray, let's go home, to Ria," said Lina with a smile. Turning to MacBeth and Lucia she winked.

"Will you be okay?" Lucia asked.

"I'll be fine... in time," said Lina as she walked over and gave Lucia a hug. MacBeth offered his hand, and shook it. She kissed his cheek, and stepped back. Ray held out her talon, and Lina took it. Both females left the couple in the hall together.

Turning to Lucia, MacBeth said, "Let's go to bed, lass..."

"Best idea you've had all day, senior," Lucia smiled. She shrieked as he lifted her up in his arms and carried her towards the bedroom.

Keith and Sharon happened to be walking by when they saw their professor dashing up the stairs with his cargo. The black raincoat swathing Lucia was unmistakably his, and they exchanged a glance that made them both chuckle.

"Private training?" Keith snickered.

"Why the hell not... which reminds me..." Sharon said as she pulled him along after her. "He's got at least a half dozen bedrooms here... and since it IS late, I don't think he'd want us to let 'em go to waste..."

"Shar, you're a nut... we should get back..."

"Mac wouldn't let us," she whispered as she tugged him up the stairs to the second level. Keith glanced around as if missing something. A sense of déjà vu, perhaps"

However her soon forgot it as Sharon kicked open a door, and led him inside, with a grin. He let her draw him into her arms, for a heated kiss. Mouths merged and they tumbled about in an endless embrace to land on the sizable queen in the center of the room.

In the next room over, in the master suite, Lucia gasped with breathless laughter as she felt MacBeth's weight press her into the soft sheets. A distant moaning and screaming underlined what they themselves were about to do.

Both remained silent, glancing at one another with questions. MacBeth pulled the covers around them, and both turned on their sides to glance with a knowing chuckle.

"I think someone's using the guestroom..." Lucia giggled.

"I'd wondered when they'd get around to proclaiming their affections for one another," MacBeth muttered, and then returned his attention to Lucia, who seemed surprised at his answer.

"You mean you don't mind?"

"Why should I mind two consenting adults performing what comes naturally betwixt man and woman in my home?" he smirked.

"I'm surprised at you, with that dirty mind all along and I never knew it," Lucia giggled. "You've been so holding out on me senior...."

"Who's holding out on whom?" MacBeth teased, tickling her all over till she shrieked.

"Caramba, I can't breathe... no fair!" she laughed. "I thought you were more... old fashioned... honorable..."

"There is a difference in this case. Especially when they're as good as married and will be soon... if I have anything to say about it. And you can be assured that the matter in present company will soon be addressed..."

"You don't have to..." she trailed off.

"Speaking of, I haven't even begun to remedy that situation where present company is involved," MacBeth lifted an eyebrow. Distracting her with a kiss, he ran his hands up and down her body.

"Sweet," she smiled, pulling him down to her. "Don't pull away, I love that... this..."

"So do I, my love," he whispered back, sighing deeply with satisfaction that he'd brought her. Deeply inside the throws of lovemaking, he let her decide what she needed from him next. As often as she wished and whenever she wished it he'd care for her needs.

"Lennox," she sighed as he lifted his head from her shoulder. He'd remained still, allowing her to feel his stiffness and moved slightly.

"If it were anybody else... I'd have so killed him because I want this so often at one time," she muttered with fear.

"Indeed, but I am no ordinary man," he smirked, and she chuckled as she hugged him tightly. "And I have been most negligent in my duty regarding this subject."

"Gracias, Senior," she sighed.

"Tis too much fer ye?" MacBeth whispered. "If you but say the word..."

"Not at all," she hummed. "I'm just tingling all over... I never thought it could feel so good... between a man and woman..."

"I'll easily be able t' provide what ye wish, in all matters that a proper man should prepare for his lady... and more... tis the benefit derived of my curse..." he reminded her.

"A curse that Lina shares... which reminds me, you were harsh to her..." Lucia said as she leaned up on one arm.

"To whom?" he asked.

"Lina. For someone who's been around for 1000 years, you've so had your 'duh' moments," she said with concern.

"I can't just accept..." he trailed off.

"Could you at least try?" Lucia asked. "for MY sake? She's got nobody... she's family now. Auntie Ria's practically adopted her."

"She has?" MacBeth asked, sitting up in bed and looking at her with surprise.

"Yes. So you'll have to get used to her," Lucia nodded.

"I suppose, I could try..." he said, looking rather guilty, but not wanting to admit in his stubborn pride that he was wrong.

"Ray will be a LOT worse than me," said Lucia. "She's going to verbally so kick your ass..."

"So ye are saying that what I may face in comparison with you will be ten times worse?" he asked.

"Either that, or I could make use of the five other guestrooms, and it IS pretty cold the last few nights... if you don't want to make an attempt to make it up with my 'cousin'..." Lucia trailed off as she turned away from him.

"I see your point..." he said slowly. "I will try... but it won't be easy..."

"Was it ever, senior?" she asked. For a time they lay apart, a black cloud having settled on their lovemaking.


	7. Kiss the Gargoyles for me

**__**

Part 7 KISS the Gargoyles for me…

* * *

"Hey, move that piece of tin right now!" the taxidriver shouted as a Lincoln town car slipped into place just as he was all set to pull up to the curb. There were two people riding in it, a young man and a young lady.

The owner turned his head, flipping up the sunglasses to glimpse the source of the voice. "Hey, can I help it if I live here?" he shouted back. "That's my space..."

"I've got a fare to pick up! Move it punk!" he yelled back. Keith wedged the front bumper, swerving out to cut off the taxi as it struggled to pull into the vacant space. He was forced to move out of the way as she backed the rest of the way in.

"Kiss my ass," the blonde girl next to him said quite distinctly, slamming the door with a flourish as Keith opened the door for her.

"Don't make me try it!" he shouted back. Till a whole chorus of honking horns resounded around him, and he moved disgruntled back into the flow of traffic to double park. Keith and Sharon leaned against the nearby awning; a big smile on their faces as the fare climbed in and drove off in a slew of curses.

Sharon shook her head, and shrugged to the small crow of onlookers who had gathered. The thin teenage body and the blonde, slender girl headed towards the studio apartment, stepping up the stairs to the front door buzzer. Her attention was diverted as she saw a shape gliding overhead, breaking her view of the crescent moon. Dusk had given way to evening, and she'd just come back from her latest temp assignment.

"Huh," she muttered, glancing at some people who were running up the street. "Who the hell is that?"

"Crap, it looks like… it looks like Carlos and Lu," he said as he narrowed his eyes.

"Wait, why are they running away… you don't think… " said Sharon, panicking.

As they dodged around people, Sharon noticed two other figures in close pursuit. What clued her in that something was wrong was when they were wildly shoving their way through the pedestrians, trying to evade someone. They dashed across the street and blundered into the sidewalk that was thick with pedestrians.

"Crap, we'd better help them," Keith said. Sharon nodded. They ran along the street, trying to keep tabs on their friends who were ducking into a shop. Minutes later they emerged, and ducked into the alley the next block over. Trying not to look obvious, Keith and Sharon ran, their shoes pounding pavement as they wove and dodged around the dazed onlookers.

"Something is definitely rotten with this picture..." Sharon whispered to Keith, who also nodded.

"You said it, and look at that…" Keith pointed as he pointed to a black van was pulling up, a silver hammer painted on its side.

Both youths cut through the back way, rushing past garbage cans in the little alley. Sure enough she saw the sudden movement of two shapes as they climbed out of a garbage bin. "Psst! Hey... psst!" Keith hissed to them.

Sharon barely managed to keep from tripping over her new platforms as they snagged a flat piece of cardboard. She recovered, her Chinese food sloshing in its carton in the bag. Keith caught their attention, "Hey... Carlos! Lu... over here!"

Lucia was helping her cousin Carlos as he limped along beside her. His ankle looked sprained arm looked broken, hanging at one side. "Boy, did you show up in the nick of time..." Lu sighed.

"There's a gang of Q-men headed your way... better haul your rears outta here," Keith said, helping to take some of Carlos' weight.

"Boy Carlos, did you pick a bad night to piss them off!" Sharon scolded. "And you didn't tell US about it!"

"You guys had to go check and see if we could play at that party," said Carlos. "You know that the band's a perfect front…"

"Look man, I don't know WHAT you're trying, but this is nuts…" said Keith. "Where the hell is Bill?"

"Dude, he's dealing with his mom… the bitch queen of the north?" Sharon spat. "He'll be meeting Keith and me back at the apartment… in ten minutes…. We sent him out for pizza…"

"Great… I just hope to hell the Q men don't get him…" said Lucia with a shiver.

"Lemmie call him," Keith whispered as he whipped out his cell phone.

"So what WERE you doing that you left us out of?" Sharon asked them.

"We were helping a peace rally by PITT that was under attack from a Quarrymen counter demonstration," Lucia whispered, a pained look in her face as they pulled Carlos along. The sounds of a van screeching to a halt alerted them, and they ducked behind a pile of trashcans for cover. Sharon dragged Keith who was still on the phone along with her.

"Oh jeez... oh jeez..." Lucia muttered.

"Keith, get your ass off the phone…" Sharon hissed.

"Shhh, Bill's on the line. He says he sees the guys, and he's working on a diversion…"

"Great, maybe those dummies will pass this place by," said Carlos. "Not… what is that dumb butt doing?"

"Bill heard that. He said to tell you to trust they don't know what part of town you guys landed in," Keith hissed. He said this with her fingers crossed.

Between the two of them they struggled to tie her arm to her side to brace it. The break was perhaps a simple one, courtesy of a concussion weapon. The sounds of sizzling air and the scent of ozone drifted into Lucia's nostrils. Someone had just cocked the handle of a quarryman hammer. There was only one way out of the alley, and it wasn't straight ahead.

"You guys stick here," Keith said. "Sharon, you stay with them…"

"But what are you…"

"I'm going to help Bill distract them. Do you think you can help Lu get Carlos outta here... the next building over's the apartment..."

"I'll try," Lucia said.

"Keith, are you nuts? What if they get you, and Bill?" Carlos mumbled.

"Hey, we go back a long ways. Besides, what's the worst they can do to me? I know this neighborhood. And if one thing I know the local gangs aren't too friendly with the quarrymen..." Keith whispered. Indeed, the locals had little love for the Q-Men, as many demonstrations had caused a lot of damage to the local stores.

Putting Carlos between them, the two girls helped him to limp with them to the back entrance to the apartment building. "Good luck," Sharon mouthed to him.

Keith moved out, casually as possible. He hoped Bill knew what he was doing.

"What's that over there?" asked a husky voice to a high pitched one. A male and a female.

"You fools, this isn't the way!" shouted what sounded like Jon Castaway.

"The boss! Here!" shouted the high pitched.

"Oh crap!" returned the husky voice. As they whirled about, they saw no one. Then suddenly they noticed somebody move out of nowhere. Someone who was very tall and had long black hair tied in a ponytail, and he wore jeans and an Ampeg T-shirt. He was joined by a second, suddenly leaping out from behind the cans. She high tailed it past them, slamming her Chinese take out into one as her fist punched into the other.

"What the hell?" the woman grunted, as her partner doubled over.

"Dude what KEPT you?" Bill hissed to Keith.

"You're freakin welcome," Keith muttered. Both reached the mouth of the alley, ducking to the side. The Quarryman van was just up the street, half a block. Half a block in the other direction was her apartment building. She threw herself into the crowd easily. Two black hooded figures shot after them. Bill and Keith streaked past several teens in ripped jeans and new sports leather, their bright red bandannas tied so tightly around their heads it seemed that they could be either pirates or bald.

Both quarrymen ran smack into the teens without looking. There came a flurry of chains and sizzling hammers ten paces behind. Keith felt his toe hit something and fell headlong onto her hands.

"Dammit," Bill cursed, feeling the bite of concrete on her skinned palms. So much for dinner, and for piece of mind. Glancing behind her she saw a whole clot of people moving away from what seemed a large-scale brawl. She scrambled to her feet, dashing away through others who had stopped to watch.

Straight into the arms of Margot, who was just climbing out of a cab. Both backed away from each other in mutual surprise. "What's your hurry, young man?" Margot put her hands on her hips. "In trouble again."

"Can't stop to talk, Mom," Bill huffed. "Got things to see, people to do..."

"In a hurry?" Margot asked, pointedly. Bill glared at her.

"Look, I'd love to share a warm family moment, but don't you have some kind of restraining thing on me that'll get me arrested?"

"Don't be wise with me, young man," Margot said sharply, backing away fifty paces. "I only was making conversation. You've worried us all sick lately with your goings on..."

"Excuse me but I've had a hard day. Work and all. Don't you have some pr stuff to do? Like spreading your little messages of peace and love and tolerance with your boyfriend?"

"I'll excuse you, if you hear me out. I only want to stop you from making an utter wreck out of your self and your life! There is still a chance for you to make something of yourself..."

"This another line from your Dr. Ruth?" asked Bill, stopping just inside her door.

"His names Bleuth. And yes... I did see him today. But that's not what I'm talking about..."

"This conversation's bogus," Bill snapped. "I've got nothing more to say to you, after the crap you and that jackass of a Castaway pulled last new years. So go hug a hammer or something!"

"Young man how DARE you talk to me like that…don't walk away from me!" Margot snapped.

"You walked way from me the day you sold out to those quarrymen, mom," he said angrily.

"You will not speak to me like that, I'm your MOTHER…"

"Maybe mom, but you always did care more about your bank account than me, your own son. I was NEVER good enough for you… I didn't want to go to law school, and you give me the riot act, and then you cored me out for not being an accountant… Dammit, Mom what DO you want from me?"

"I want you to clean up your act and get a job, finish school… not waste your life in some rock band… after ALL I've done for you, you throw it all away on this… this… and the worst part is that you're hanging around with those awful gargoyle PITT…"

"Mom, you are way outta line!" he cried. "The gargoyles are NOT our enemies… you've been brainwashed into a BIGOT!"

"All I wanted was the best for you, but you're like you're father… he just wanted to run away. And now YOU'RE doing the same… but I know it's not your fault, you've been corrupted by them…"

"Whatever Mom, just leave me alone!" Bill said bitterly.

Keith had seen the whole thing as Bill shoved past him, and yanked his friend by the arm. They slammed the door hard, almost in Margot's face. Not only had dinner gone the way of the dodo, and two of their friends were in trouble, but also his own mother was playing Jehovah's witness again. Keith looked to see Margot hammering on the door, her white knuckles red with the force of her pounding. Bill brushed angrily at his eyes as he trotted up the dim hallways to her apartment. Keith shook his head and ran up after him, praying Lu and Carlos would be there with Sharon when they reached the top.

* * *

"They were headed in this direction," Goliath spoke into the small mike around his neck. He still couldn't believe the magic in this little device that allowed him to speak to his beloved as if she were sitting right next to him.

"All right, love, I'm on my way..." came Elisa's sweet voice. "Got the dirt over the radio that there are Q men in that neighborhood..."

"We're almost there," Goliath said. Beside him glided Hudson; his good eye fixed firmly on the city far below.

"We have to find them… they're only children," Raychell fretted.

"Trust the pair of them to go playing peacemaker," Hudson sighed.

"Hudson you cannot fault them for wanting to make a stand. But I agree they should have not moved without the Clan's backing..." Goliath responded.

"Please Hudson, they were my students…"

"Raychell, nobody wants t' help find them more than ye, but ye shuild ha warned the bairns to stop playin wi' fire… they're outnumbered… and reckless and foolish!"

"Hudson please," she sniffled.

"Ach, I'm sorry lass," he sighed. "Look, fer yer sake I'm here lookin fer them. I hate t' see ye in such a state m' lass. The only guid thing oota this mess is that people are listening. An' fightin back against those sasanaches..." Hudson grunted. "Not every door has a hammer behind it nau... it's jest foolishness of them t' take on so many alone…"

"Thank you so much Hudson, I knew I could count on you," she said as she wiped away tears.

"I agree with you, old friend. Look, there... on the fire escape! Isn't that your students now?"

"Yes, that's Lucia and Carlos… but why are they on the fire escape… he's got a broken leg…"

"I'll go in... And look... there be Quarrymen up the street! That van..." Hudson gritted.

"We must lead them off, till Elisa gets there..." Goliath said.

Broadway flew up next to them, his face twisted into a mask of concern. "At least those jerks left the PIT rally," he announced as Brooklyn and Angela fell into formation behind him.

"Yer idol has dazzled millions again?" asked Hudson.

"She's wonderful," Broadway sighed, a dreamy look on his face. "I only wish I could bust some heads for what those Q men tried to do to her..."

"Chill bro," Brooklyn sighed. "She's a celeb! She'll bounce back!"

"It is good that the famous are defending us now... in what did you call it?" Angela asked.

"A rally in Central Park," Brooklyn supplied.

"I bet there were more PIT people then Quarrymen there," Broadway said.

"I wish those kids… Lucia and Carlos didn't decide to jump on stage like that when Castaway tried to get up close and personal," Brooklyn criticized. "Ray, can't you put a leash on 'em? They were both alone…"

"They have others… MacDuff was supposed to be with them… but he wasn't able to…"

"One cannot mute the enthusiasm of youth," said Goliath with a tiny smile. "And did you say…"

"MacBeth is helping them," Raychell said as everyone looked at her in surprise. "What, you didn't know… he's on your side…"

"You had mentioned that lassie, as I recall," Hudson said. "But tis true? If so, where was he?"

"He had something else come up," said Raychell slowly. "And the other members of the PITT crew… they were supposed to back them up… but then…"

* * *

Bill Yale didn't bother switching on the light when he unlatched the door. Keith did it for him, and both men wandered into the loft apartment. Sure enough they heard a scraping sound and a thumping on the window. Quickly Bill rushed to the window, shoving the food into Keith's hands as he pulled up the curtain. Sharon was banging on the window. Quickly she pushed up the window, helping to pull Lucia inside. Keith rushed up; kicking the door shut and helped them to maneuver Carlos through the space.

"Man, this is not a good night," Carlos grumbled.

"Here Carlos, let me help you onto the sofa man," Bill said. Sharon landed next to them, and both Bill and Keith managed to maneuver their friend onto the sofa.

"Oh god, are you all right…" Lucia whispered to her cousin.

"Lu, it's okay, chica," he said softly. "Don't fuss girl. Yer worse than my sister!"

"Of all the alleys in the city, ya had to land into this one," Bill joked, grabbing a first aid kit that he had stashed somewhere in the bathroom. Lucia stood at her cousin's side, glancing back and forth as if she expected something to crash though the window at any minute.

Sharon rushed into the kitchen to get some water, and Keith locked the front door. Lucia prodded at her cousin's ankle, asking him where it hurt. Bill moved over with the kit, and handed it to her.

"His leg is sprained," Lucia whispered. "We need to brace it with something…"

Sharon returned with water, and Keith grabbed some newspapers to use as a makeshift brace. Lucia slid it under as Bill lifted Carlos' leg, and set it carefully down. Then Lucia wrapped the bandage around his foot, and then tied the newspaper around it to brace it. Sharon threw a blanket over Carlos, who lay exhausted on the couch, dropping his head onto the pillow gratefully.

"Man you HAD to get a sprain just before our next gig," Bill ribbed him. "What the hell WERE you thinking? You're the star… we can't have Paul Stanley limping in platforms man…"

"Fuck the concert," Keith hissed. "IS that all you care about?"

"What I CARE about man is that this dillweed was stupid enough to get his ankle busted when he SHOULD have called us to back him up!" Bill snapped at Keith.

"Guys shut up!" Sharon shouted. "Like, come on, this is NOT helping!"

"Damn I'm sorry guys," Carlos said softly.

"Lu, Carlos, I think you'll be safe if you stay here, ok?" Bill sighed. "We've got some extra room here…"

"Yeah, I guess," Sharon nodded.

"Who would think to look for 'em here in a ratty old building in a loft?" joked Bill

"I don't like this at all..." Lucia muttered.

"Well it's no fun and games to me either," Bill muttered. "The thing to figure out is how the hell to get you two out of here without a bunch of people noticing..."

"Can't we just stay here tonight?" Lucia said. "Then maybe we can call Prof. MacDuff…"

"Speaking of which, where IS your sugar daddy boyfriend?" asked Sharon.

"Shut up," Carlos snapped at her.

"No, I'm serious… where's he at when we need him?" Sharon demanded.

"Leave her alone, you KNOW that he's got a lot of shit going on," Keith broke in. "He's doing protests overseas when this all went down… don'cha think he'd be here if he knew she was in trouble?"

"I called him, and he said he was on his way back!" Lucia cried.

"Great," Sharon sighed.

"Shut up Shar," Keith snapped. "That's not helping."

"He's right. Everyone shut up. We have to work together. Lu, you said you called Prof. Mac, and he's coming right?"

She nodded. Sharon sighed and Keith stepped on her foot. "So, what's the plan, Bill?" Carlos asked.

"I think it's better if Carlos stayed her. And you too Lu…" Bill said. "And have Mac come get you here. The police are after both of you, but Sharon and Keith can go meet him, and let him know were you are…"

"Huh, dunno. Maybe it's best..." Lu sighed.

"That way next night you'll be healed and able to go back..." said Bill. "And you'll be out of the way of the cops, Lu…"

Sharon sighed and flipped on the TV. The game show, Who Wants to be a Millionaire, was just about to turn off. A woman sat in the wire chair, as Regis Phillbin asked her the question for what seemed the fourth time.

"Wait, leave it there..." Keith urged. "It's her third day in a row! She's about to win a million dollars."

Just then there was a buzz at Bill's door. "Wait a sec guys..."

"Who would that be?"

"My loving mom, I hope not," Bill pulled a face at the thought.

"Wait, your aunt came by here?" Sharon gasped.

"Yeah... really strange... she never pays me a visit..."

"That's not good," Lucia muttered.

"Why?"

"Because she might know we're here, and look for us, DUH!" Keith snapped. "And she's like Mrs. Gargoyle hater… use your fucking brain!"

"Calm down, calm down guys… wait a sec… Lu go get my makeup kit. Keith, you get your ass and get Carlos to the bedroom in the back. Shar, you help him… on the double cat woman…"

"Fine, fine," she mumbled as she helped Keith haul Carlos up, and Lucia rushed to help as well. Together they moved him into the bedroom.

"I'll distract her," Bill said, as he moved to the door panel. Pressing the white button he said, "Yeah? Make my day!"

"Pappa John's pizza! Delivery for a... Bill Yale?"

"Be right down!" he called. Leaving the others to ponder what their next move was.

"Rachel Carter, you've just won one million dollars!" Regis shouted at the top of his lungs from the television. Lucia glanced back and gave a small smile at the glowing expression of the young woman on television.

Minutes later Bill ran upstairs with the pizza and put it down. "False alarm guys," he said.

"You are a lucky son of a bitch," Sharon sighed. "Damn…You fuckin let her find out where you jam and she's a gargoyle hater, what is like up with that?"

"Shar, give it a rest," Keith snapped. "It's old. Look, Bill knows what' he's doing. His mom doesn't know that he's a PITT crewmember…"

"And it'll stay that way," he said.

Lucia sighed and opened the box of pizza. "I guess we'd better eat this…"

"Yeah, I ordered it earlier today… cause we were supposed to have a band rehearsal," Bill said. "Which reminds me, why don't we paint you all up so we can confuse the living hell out of whoever comes up here…"

"But doesn't your mom know who we are?"

"She can presume, but I'm in the process of putting a restraining order on her," said Bill with a clever smile.

"Your own mom, dude!" Keith laughed. "That's harsh, but she deserves it!"

"Lu, since Carlos is down, you'll fill in for him."

"You have GOT to be kiddin," she laughed as Bill moved her into a chair, and dragged his makeup kit.

"Oh please, you're expecting us to fucking REHEARSE when…" Sharon spat.

"That's the perfect cover. We can say we've been dress rehearsing here…" said Bill as he snapped his fingers. Keith picked up the remote and turned on the DVD player to play loud rock music to screen their conversations. Lucia nibbled some pizza, and let Bill paint her face as the others went to do the same.

It seemed stupid, Sharon mumbled to herself as she drew her facepaint on as she did so a thousand times before. But it was an alibi. Besides, in makeup they couldn't tell exactly who the members of bill's trib were. Granted Margo said she knew who was in it, but they used stage names, and Keith was by the computer, fabricating some fake I.D.'s as Bill then started to draw the outlines of his makeup on his face.

Lucia wandered over with the curtain around her and started to smirch white makeup on Bill's face. She often helped him with his makeup to speed up the process. He did the same to her. Then Sharon helped Keith draw on his Ace makeup, while he fussed with the computer. Rather hard, but interesting.

"Who took my brush for the silver?" she shouted. "Shit, Bill, you stupid fucker… it's black…"

"So sue me, get a new one… use Keith's…" Bill shouted back, half in the Demon mode.

"Guys, remember Carlos…" Lucia sighed as she subjected herself to act as a decoy.

"Shar, chill, it's ok," said Keith as he handed his silver brush over, and Sharon sighed as she began to use it on the steins. This was the real deal. The real clown white those professionals used the expensive stuff that wasn't runny, quaky or flaky.

Powder fluffed around them as they continued their ritual, and every ten seconds Lucia was scared that they Quarrymen would find them in this studio apartment. Bill and Keith lived there together, with Sharon. Lucia had given up her own room to spend most of her time over at MacBeth's home, while Carlos lived in a dorm room during the week, and with his grandma the weekends. Keith had been a confirmed KISS army member since he was seven, and Brendan had taken him to his first concert, along with Bill. Margot was extremely embarrassed at the whole thing, and pretended NOT to see them.

Sharon had joined their group when they advertised for a drummer. At first Bill bitched about a girl drummer, but Keith set him straight. She was the best, and one of the few who didn't have major ego trips, most of the time. But lately Bill was getting on her nerves.

"What friggin trib has a female drummer I ask you," Bill bitched.

"Shut up, you know she's better than the others, and besides, the audience thinks a Cat Woman is sexy," said Keith.

"I'm just joking, ok?" Bill mumbled as he finished Lucia's face paint, and she sighed with relief as he dusted it with makeup powder. Then she did his, and he maneuvered her long black curly hair around her face.

"There ya go, a Star Girl," he smiled.

"You only wanted me to play the part cause of my hair," she teased.

"So, we did this, let's eat this pizza already, I'm starved," Sharon said as she pushed Bill out of the way and began to chow down.

"You could have eaten BEFORE you painted that on," said Bill with a smirk.

"Shut up or I'll cut that tongue of yours out," said Sharon.

"You oughta get her neutered, Keith," said Bill.

"Shut up guys, please?" Lucia begged.

"He's only pulling my chain, its ok Hon," said Sharon as she looked at Lucia, who was scared to death.

"I don't even WANT to think about this… what if they find us… what if…"

"They won't," Bill said as he patted her shoulder. "They'll just see some trib doing dress rehearsal. That's all. Now, let's see if you remember any of the power cords Lu that your cousin taught you, and see if you can carry the banter…"

"You should be him," Lucia said. "You've got the voice…"

"This is a dress rehearsal, don't' sweat it… by tomorrow the Q men will give up and then we're free and clear," said Keith.

* * *

That next day the sun set in glorious shades of red and gold. The bands of solid color melted and ran like ice cream as the phone began to ring in Bill Yale's apartment. An empty pizza box lay on the coffee table, next to a few coke cans and paper cups. A few slices remained, the cheese on top congealed. On the sofa bed that was pulled out, both Sharon and Lucia slept. Keith was in his own room, while Bill had taken an aerobed on the floor. They had rehearsed all night and into the next day, in the auspices of keeping a vigil in case the Quarrymen came during the day.

A jangling noise stung Lucia and Sharon's ears. "What..."

"The phone," Bill said. "I'll get it…"

"Wait, don't answer it..." Lucia cautioned.

"What's going on?" came Carlos' voice from the back room.

"Go back to sleep, it's just the phone," Bill said as he wiped at his makeup with a towel.

"Let the friggin machine take it," Sharon said as she put a pillow over her head.

At the sound of the fourth ring, the beep clicked on, and Bill's message sounded. Lucia tensed with her hand at the ready, to pick or not pick up the phone. When they heard the soothing tones of MacBeth Lucia drew a sigh of relief. She scooped up the receiver, saying,

"Thank god, I was worried sick..."

Surprise came in the voice. Lucia listened, and then said, "I'm all right, amore, don't fuss please…there were some quarrymen that... oh no I'm fine now..."

"Ask him when he's getting his ass here?" said Sharon with a laugh.

"Shar," Bill rolled his eyes.

"Please love, can you pick us up… Sharon and Keith will meet you… yes I'll stay RIGHT here till you come… oh I'm so scared… yes I know… I'm so glad… don't blame yourself, it wasn't your fault… you will… yes…"

"What's the plan?" bill asked.

"Where should me and Keith meet him?" asked Sharon.

"The coffee house where I worked," said Lucia. "Then he'll come by and get Carlos to his place… he said he can treat the sprain…"

"Good deal," Sharon nodded. "Tell him to hurry."

Lucia did that as Bill yawned and wandered into the restroom. Sharon chuckled despite herself as Lucia continued to speak to MacBeth on the other line. When she was done, Sharon looked at her with a grin.

"What's that look for?" Lucia wondered, as her face grew hot and she clicked down the receiver a bit more sharply then she had wanted to. "What?"

"I still can't believe, that he and she are..." Sharon teased.

Lucia blushed as she tried to complete her sentence, "Now come on…"

"It's a strange world we live in," Bill laughed. "Just thinking about you and an immortal king being an item is farther out then anything they had on that SF channel!"

"An item?" Lucia chuckled nervously.

Sharon grinned, "I dunno if you'd would call it that. More like lovers? "

"Hope you know what you're getting into," Keith muttered as he wandered out in his boxers and a T-shirt.

"Hello yourself, you look toasted," said Bill. "What's going down?"

"Keith, what are you babbling about, get ready cause we gotta meet Mac…"

"That's just it," he said as he looked at Lucia. "He takes things pretty seriously."

"So?" asked Lucia. "I care about him, and he cares about me…"

"He might ask you to marry him," said Keith. "You up to it?"

"Come on, she doesn't have to…"

"If he did I'd say yes," Lucia whispered.

"Guys, don't you have to meet the professor?" Bill asked, seeing Lucia's awkward look.

"C'mon Keith, get the lead outta yer ass," said Sharon. The phone rang, and everyone looked at each other.

"It's my cell guys," said Keith as he opened it. "Hello? Shock me?"

Everyone waited, and he handed it to Lucia, "It's for you. It's the Prof.…"

She grabbed it and said, "Hello…yes… they're about to leave… you what? You don't want them to come… why?"

"Something wrong?" asked Bill, seeing the look of confusion on her face.

"What's the deal?" Sharon asked impatiently.

"Hold on, I'll tell them…" she said. "Bill, he wants to talk to you…"

"Oh?" Bill said as she handed him the phone. Sharon and Keith moved over and started to ask her questions.

"What's up?" Keith yawned.

"He says he thinks it might be better if Bill and Sharon took Carlos directly to the hospital… he already called his grandma, and he convinced the ER there to make it look like Carlos was there all night… yes, they are PIT people…" Lucia said.

"But what about you?" asked Sharon.

"He's asking you and Bill to keep me safely here till he comes to get me himself," said Lucia with an embarrassed smile.

"He likes you, likes you girl," said Keith with a grin.

"Wow," said Sharon. "I still can't believe he'd do that... man he IS serious…"

"Dude, he loves her," Keith laughed as Lucia got an odd look in her eyes. She sighed and went over to pick up the remains of the Chinese food. Bill was still talking to MacBeth.

As Sharon and Keith removed the remains of their takeout pizza dinner from the previous night, they watched Bill and Lucia talking softly. They overheard her saying to him, "He seems so... noble... and kind and good..."

"We'd better get going," Bill said to her. "Before the others start to worry... Keith, Sharon can you get ready and Lu, wake up your cousin. We have to get moving…"

Everyone nodded and moved off to do their things. As Bill waited for them, he turned the TV on. The evening news was playing and he suddenness turned up the volume. "In the news today, recent winner of the _Who Wants to be a Millionaire_ sweepstakes Rachel Carter was admitted to the Crystal Springs Sanitarium. She was found nude in her bathtub, incoherent and shivering after four days, by concerned neighbors. Police have no leads on possible suspects, but all areas are being investigated. Representatives claim that she exhibited severe bouts of anxiety bordering on self mutilation and depression..."

"Shit," said Bill, confused. Keith wandered out in jeans, sneakers and his jacket. He motioned to Bill, and he moved over to help with Carlos. Lucia wandered out, absently scratching at her hand as she wandered over to the news, and shook her head. Something was making her feel queasy in her stomach, and she had a pounding headache. With relief she saw them helping Carlos limp out, and she got up to say goodbye, clicking off the news.

"Take care chica…" her cousin said as he kissed her.

"I'll be staying here with you, don't worry," Keith said as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Good," said Bill. "Cause Mac said he'd have my ass on a plate if something happened to her."

"He shouldn't worry," Lucia mumbled.

"Are you for real? He's your knight in shining armor," Keith teased. "And I'm his padawan. Go get Carlos to the hospital you two…"

"Don't worry, we'll make sure he's ok," Sharon said as she and Bill helped Carlos, who glanced back.

"Sit tight, it'll be ok…" Carlos called. Lucia sighed and Keith put his hand on her shoulder.

In a few minutes they were left alone in the apartment, to wait for them to return. Keith got on the Internet while Lucia began to flip channels again. Sighing she prayed that her love would come and rescue her soon. Something was making her more nervous than usual. Hell, who wouldn't be?

* * *

Hudson growled and pressed the up channel button. "News gets worse and worse all the time, Bronx," he grumbled to the dog garoyle at his feet. Bronx chewed on a section of Sears-N-Roebuck catalog, happily ripping the underwear section to shreds. Small bits of glossy paper dropped from his mouth as he glanced up at Hudson.

Raychell yawned as she wandered into the television room. "Hullo lass," Hudson turned his head at the sound of her entrance. "Long night ahead o' ye?"

"I was looking for signs of my students. Any word?"

"There's been little word," Hudson said as he motioned for her to come sit on the arm of the chair near him. "That's what Owen Burnett said right enau…"

Sighing she did so, and he put a reassuring hand at the small of her back. He knew how much she worried about her former students. "But dinna worry. But trust him… he'd able t find help I'd be thinking," Hudson assured her.

Broadway wrestled with a large bowl of popcorn and several diet cokes as he almost stumbled into Bronx. The dog gargoyle snorted and he said, "Sorry boy, didn't see ya there..."

"He'll get over it, big guy," Raychell laughed. "Don't let me stop you from catching Late Night with David Letterman..."

"You'll never believe who's tonight's guest..." Hudson rumbled. "MacBeth..."

"Him on TV? Since when did Letterman rap with historical stuff?" asked Broadway. "No way!"

"MacBeth?" asked Raychell. "That's right. That's where he was… he must have gotten to Lucia after all…"

"Aye, and that new model Carissa Desiree," Hudson said. "Not to mention our own Fox Xanatos..."

"Carissa? The spokeswoman for PIT?" Broadway drooled. "She's... beautiful..."

"Thought ye might want t' hear about her..."

"You figure it out..." Raychell laughed. "But I have to talk to Goliath... I have to ask him if Elisa's heard anything."

"I'll come with ye, if ye like, lass," Hudson offered, noticing that she was hiding her sadness, but failing.

"No that's ok Hudson, I know you like to watch your shows…"

"As ye wish lass," he said as he took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "But ye can always join us later… I hate t' see ye worry yerself so."

She wandered out into the main chamber, hanging high with tapestries. Alex toddled there, only inches before his impressed mother Fox. "Come on honey, one more step..."

Alex giggled as he fell into his mother's proud arms. Raychell smiled slightly as she passed them. "How'd your interview with the letterman go?" she asked.

"He behaved himself," Fox laughed, as she scooped her son up into her arms. "It's not the first time I've been on that show..."

Elisa Maza walked in, yawing. Raychell rushed over to her, almost tripping on her ankles when she greeted her, "Elisa, I was going to ask Goliath if you've…"

"I hoped to find you here, Raychell. I haven't heard anything, about your two students, but I did arrest some people who were rioting outside the building. Seems the Q men got into a fight with the local gang near that apartment you saw them at…"

"God, were they…"

"Nobody was hurt too badly. Nice to see that the gangs are doing something productive like beating on Q men instead of each other," Elisa said.

"Bill lives there with Keith," said Raychell with relief. "I'd forgotten they turned a loft into a studio…"

"Somehow I'm not surprised..." Elisa chuckled, then let loose with a head splitting yawn. "Oh sorry..."

"Stopping those quarrymen again?" Fox shrugged. "What are they up to this time?"

"I've been reassigned to another set of cases," Elisa muttered. "So I wouldn't know..."

"But Keith…"

Just then a familiar voice could be heard animatedly talking to a dry one. Fox saw Owen Burnette walking in with a young lady whom Raychell rushed over to. "Sharon!" she cried. "I'm so glad…"

"It's okay Raychell… Carlos got to the hospital safely…"

"Great to see you're okay, but you gotta watch it!" Elisa nodded, but then grew stern. "But no more stupid stunts like that one, or I'll arrest Lu and Carlos…"

"Elisa, you can't do that," said Raychell.

"Well, then find some less dangerous ways to protest," Elisa scolded Sharon. "Your friends could have gotten killed.

"Well they didn't. They all crashed at Bill's," Sharon announced.

"Who is that?" Elisa asked. Sharon glanced at Raychell in worry. Should they tell Elisa that Bill was really Margot's son? They were thankfully interrupted as Goliath strode into the room, and Elisa's attention was diverted.

"Elisa, how are you this night?" Goliath asked.

"Goliath, I need a favor from you guys..." she said, forgetting about Sharon and Raychell temporarily.

"Anything," Goliath rumbled, moving close to her. His hands enclosed around hers. Fox got the distinct impression as long as they were locked in each other's gaze the rest of the world ceased to exist. Shrugging she picked up Alex, and moved into the next room. Raychell hugged Sharon, who quickly whispered something.

"I have to go, Professor. But I'll call you to let you know everything's ok," said Sharon.

"Okay, you just be safe, and stop worrying us so much!" Raychell scolded. Sharon walked out with Owen, who had been patiently waiting the whole time.

"There's been some really strange cases going down," Elisa said. "Famous celebrities suddenly going insane..."

"I had heard about the case of that woman on television," Raychell said. "The one who just won a million dollars. "

"How did you know about that?" Elisa asked.

"Television. Heard it from Hudson," Raychell said.

"Figures," Elisa muttered, and then chuckled. Then turned her head to look back into the depths of Goliath's eyes. "But something seems really fishy about the whole thing to me. Why would a woman who just won a million dollars suddenly be found crazy in her bathtub?"

"I do not know..." Goliath muttered. "Is it a case you are working on?"

"Well let's just say I want your help tonight. There's going to be another public appearance of that new model, Carissa. Chavez has ordered protection. We gotta make sure no Quarrymen get to her when she goes on Late Night tonight..."

"And you wish us to, back you up?" Goliath asked.

"Right. We don't know what they're planning next..."

* * *

"Where the heck is Bill anyway," asked the landlady. "He failed to pay the rent on time..."

"I dunno..." muttered the gangly youth from behind the pull chain. "She... well comes and goes as she wants to I guess..."

"I couldn't care less if you two were having wild orgies... the rent is due by the end of this week, or you two are out of here!" muttered the landlady.

"All right, I'll have it... today or whatever..." he scratched his head, a bit puzzled. "Like don't be so... so... crazed about it..."

"I don't want whatever. Make sure it gets paid. I don't care which of you it is..."

Keith wandered back into the apartment, absently kicking at an empty Chinese takeout container with one toe of his boot. Spying the pizza carton, he sniffed at it. The cheese had congealed by now, and he turned up his nose at a very odd smell coming from it. Bill had gone out to get some more food, and he was waiting.

Just then came a frantic banging at the door. Keith nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden staccato, dropping the box. The slice he'd been holding ended up right on the floor, face down. "Oh great," he muttered, trying to scoop it up and stuff it back into the box.

A frantic muffled shout came with increased knocking. It sounded like whoever it was was trying to break the door down. "I'm coming! Christ, can't you wait?"

"Let me in, for the love of God let me in!" shouted a familiar voice. He fumblingly pulled aside the door catches, and Lucia nearly shoved him into the wall as she leaned into the door.

"What the hell?" he cried. "Why the HELL did you go out? Someone will have my ASS for this…Didn't you have your key?"

"I lost it! Didn't you get my phone call? Why didn't you open the door when I knocked?"

"Are you kidding me? This is New York..." he responded. "Where the hell have you been? The Land lady was just here... and where the hell is Bill?"

Lucia looked back and forth, before slamming the door and latching all the locks. There was a wild look in her brown eyes that Keith didn't like at all. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck pricking up at Lucia' frantic rushing about. She raced to the window, pulling down the blinds. Then orbited the room, looking under boxes and light fixtures.

"Those damn Quarrymen... I could swear I saw one on my butt on the way back here..." Lucia said with a very hushed voice.

"You missed the big party last night? You were here with me!" he asked, eyebrows raising.

"No, down the street! But it's as good as if they came knocking right on the front door," Lucia snapped. Her hand curled round a baseball bat that for some reason had made its way into the front closet. She hefted its weight, lifting over her shoulder.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"All what?" she asked him back.

"You're rushing around like some freaking nutcase," he countered. "Look, I don't get into your business... but like... you're majorly freakin me out. Is something wrong? I was supposed to keep you safe!"

"Only every Q-Man in this city after me," she said, and rushed back to the door, flattening herself against the doorframe. "I saw one, out of the corner of my eye, when I was at the theater. Then when I was on the subway I could swear there was some blonde guy staring at me..."

"Wasn't he admiring the view," Keith quipped. "I mean... don't get me wrong but don't ya don't complain when a man's staring at you..."

"It was the way he was staring at me," she hissed, grabbing the front of Keith's T-shirt and glaring right into his eyes.

"Chill ok! I believe you," Keith held up his hands. Lucia let go of his shirt, and backed away.

"Caramba! what the hell just happened... what was I doing?" she asked, shaking her head. A glazed look came over her as if she had awakened from a dream. "For a moment there I felt like I was going psycho!"

"I'll say you were. Christ Lucia, is this some joke? Cause if it is, it ain't funny!" Keith complained, backing away from his friend.

"Sorry Keith... I... just... can't shake this feeling like someone's out to get me," she muttered. That vulnerable look scared him. Normally Lucia was a bit nervous, but not aggressive like this! This wasn't her style at all, because she wouldn't be so eager to clobber whomever it was after her. Rather she would run away, or call for help. Keith felt the nervousness growing. Lucia picked up the pizza box, and fished out a piece. "Want one?" she asked him.

"I dunno. I've gotta ask Bill how long ago he ordered that pie," he said. "It's smelling kinda funky to me..."

"Just yesterday. Should be still okay. Besides, why are you complaining? I mean I've seen you eat stuff that's been sitting around longer then this..." she began to chow down on the pizza.

Nervously Keith began to nibble on a piece himself. That odd smell settled in again, and he grimaced. Bitter odd taste, as if it was biting it back. "God, it tastes horrible!" he gagged. "You didn't get anchovies on it did you?"

"Of course not!" she laughed, and he was again surprised. She didn't curse much, and it was usually in Spanish. What was going on here?

An odd tingling set over him, as if his skin were bathed in nettles. Lucia looked at him oddly, still munching on her slice. There were only two left, that she held in her hand, and the one he'd dropped and slipped back into the box, not counting his half eaten piece discarded.

"Are you sure it's safe to eat that?" he asked her.

She put the piece down. "You've got a point. Probably should have trashed this a long time ago..." she muttered, gathering up the remains of the box and walking into the kitchen. Keith followed her, pulling open the fridge to extract a can of mountain dew. Anything to wash away that horrible taste! Absently he wandered over to switch on the television set as Lucia messed with folding the cardboard takeout box into the already full trash bag.

He started flipping channels; not noticing over the noise of the television as Lucia Dominguez suddenly blinked, wrestling with the bag of trash. Nor did he notice as she grabbed up her handbag and the baseball bat. She hefted it over her head, thoughtfully. Then she slipped away, not even letting him know where she was going.

* * *

Lucia could swear she had seen that car parked there when she had pulled up. And it was still there when she had glanced out of the apartment window. Time to take care of this once and for all, she found herself thinking as she held the baseball bat aloft. Just as she was peering, bat in hand with her purse, she slammed into someone yet again.

"Um… s orry…" Lucia groaned.

For Margot Yale stood there, her hair tied up in that ridiculous hair scarf, all frizzy. That asinine pantsuit which was a sick shade of green and her dinky handbag. Wearing a look of what appeared to be concern. "Have you seen my son? I want to bury the hatchet..." she began.

"Don't give me that," Lucia gritted. "I heard about that PIT woman. She's loco thanks to what your Q buddies have done! And I'm sick of people being bullied by pigs like you! So you tell Castaway we're not gonna take this lying down. I know you've been following me..."

"Clearly you're very disturbed, are you sure you haven't seen my son?" Margot said, eyeing the baseball bat that Lucia was holding.

"That man in the train was one of your friends, right? And that hombre over there in the van? Don't deny it!"

"You're clearly every bit as dangerous as the others said you were. You were such a sweet nice girl when I heard Bill talk about you. But it's the PIT people that did this to you, and I pity you for that..." Margot backed away, reaching into her purse for something as Lucia advanced upon her. "I'm just surprised my son isn't here…"

"You'll not find him!" Lucia hissed. "He hates you… just like I do!"

Just then someone climbed out of the van, and Lucia turned her head to one side, bat held up.

"Help!" Margot shouted into the cell phone she'd extracted from her purse. "I'm being assaulted!"

"You lying bitch…" Lucia got out before suddenly a very strong gentleman grabbed her from behind. Hands plucked the bat from her hand. However, she slipped down, and he let go. Then she turned and punched him in the gut, and kicked him in the shins. Before the second could move, she grabbed the bat in his hands, and then slammed her fist right in his face with a right cross. How on earth had she learned to f ight like that, Margot wondered in fear.

Several people turned to the commotion as Lucia was dragged, kicking and screaming away by what looked to be two persons in suits. Just then a police car pulled up, Officer Morgan peering out the window.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We've got this under control," one of the men flashed what looked like a badge while the other wrestled Lucia into the van before Morgan could get a better look. Margot rushed over to the officer, blocking his view of the scene.

"Mrs. Yale," Morgan said, trying to crane his neck to look around her. "What's going on I got the call and I was in the neighborhood."

"Just a very disturbed person with a baseball bat... trying to assault me, while their partner grabbed my purse." she said. "But luckily Detective Carson was in the area... it's being taken care of..."

Morgan scratched his head, as he drove on. Very weird indeed. But if the plainclothes had whoever it was, it wasn't his department. "Somebody want to let me in on this?"

The detective flashed his badge quickly. "Bust going down on a pickpocket ring. No problem..."

"All right... but if you need a hand..."

"We got who we wanted," said the fellow. Morgan drove away, still puzzled.

* * *


	8. The fine silver line

**__**

Part 8 The Fine Silver Line

* * *

"It was really weird," Officer Morgan muttered as he sipped down a cup of coffee later. The squad room was rife with chattering officers, all buzzing around their desks to the tune of fluttering paper.

"What was weird?" Elisa laughed, crossing her bluejeaned legs as she looked up from her computer.

"Was driving by that street where something went down, that Q-Man gang riot incident yesterday, and I saw Margot Yale... Assistant DA. She said something about plainclothes busting a pickpocket ring... just was wondering if you knew anything about it..."

"Probably some secret investigation," Elisa gulped at her coffee nonchalantly. "You know, one of the ones that the Captain never lets us others know about because... well it's secret. Remember when I busted Dracon..."

"Yeah, we all thought you'd lost your mind," Morgan chuckled, extracting a jelly filled donut from the box on Elisa's desk.

Suddenly Matt breezed by their desk, a stack of papers in his hands. "Elisa you wouldn't believe what just went down..."

"I know... If I hear one more comment about that **Who Wants to be a Millionaire **conspiracy again I'll put a finger down my throat," Elisa groaned.

"No, it's not that," Matt corrected her. "It's something I dug up on Carissa Desiree. Did you know she'd been in for treatment at the Crystal Springs Sanitarium?"

"So?" Elisa asked, raising an eyebrow as Morgan winked at her.

"That's just it. That's the same sanitarium that the newest winner on Who Wants to Be a millionaire..." Morgan muttered.

Just then Elisa's phone rang. She picked up the receiver, muttering, "Yeah, talk to me..."

An incoherent string of words shot forth. It sounded familiar, but she scolded the talker at the other end, "Slow down Keith, what's going on?"

Morgan lifted an eyebrow as he took a tentative bite from his donut. "She what? Okay, but are you sure?"

Already the sun was fast approaching the low course of its arc, beaming brightly into he precinct squad room. "Okay, okay I'll come over... but you're not making any sense..."

* * *

Keith felt as if his head was splitting open. He groaned as he flopped out of the elevator, in the high vaulted ceilinged rooms of the castle. Why was he here of all places? Some strange homing instinct perhaps? To see his friend?

Only just a few minutes ago he'd called Elisa. From a street pay phone. Had to go after Lucia... make sure she was okay.

He groaned as he tumbled headlong onto the floor. Owen happened to walk in at the sound of the elevator door swinging open. "May I ask what brings you here today?" he asked dryly. All the same he gripped the lanky fellow as he collapsed hands to his head.

"Head... splitting," Keith gasped. "I gotta tell her... she's wrong... she had no right... to have me..."

"Who sir?" Owen asked, gripping Keith.

"That bitch... who said she was my friend, my professor..." he gritted. "No... Got to tell her... she..."

"I must insist you stop this irrational behavior," Owen latched his arm under Keith's, as he moved towards the main living area.

"How dare you bring me into this world!" he hollered. "How dare you run away and leave us… damn you Raychell!"

"I must ask you to lower your voice! Alex is taking his nap..." Fox gasped.

"Lucia... gone... everyone crazy..." he gasped, the anger flushing out of his face. Slowly his mind seemed to recede as another pain shot through his head.

Fox and Xanatos came running at the commotion, seeing a writhing KEITH wrestling with Owen. "What's going on here Owen?" Xanatos asked casually.

"Boy's got a wild streak... in him... I don't know sir..." he gasped.

"Keith Pulaski, what's going on?" Fox asked, trying to be calm and collected against the wildness in his eyes.

"You... it's all your fault!" he yelled at her.

"What's all my fault?" she asked. "You're crazy…"

Suddenly he broke away from her, and screamed as he raced into the courtyard. "Raychell, DAMN you, damn you for what you made me feel! You abandoned us… you ran away, you've got a heart of stone you outer space bitch! You created this mess... and I can't get anything right!" he hollered back.

"I don't know WHAT you're deal is," Fox said, confused. "I'm sorry you're angry! But this isn't the way to..."

Keith grabbed a knife from his pocket, and snarled, "Get out of my way!" Owen struggled to move, but Fox cartwheeled out of the way. Owen jumped to attack, but Keith pushed him, and he grabbed the knife to twist it out of his hand. Keith gave Owen a kick, and shoved him off as he stalked towards Fox with the knife. She quickly flashed out with a roundhouse kick and nailed him in the jaw. It was then that he crumpled, a marionette with cut strings that sagged in Owen's arms. Xanatos shielded Fox from the backlash of a sudden wave that cut them both down.

"Holy shit!" she cried, moving to his side. Just then the elevator door slipped open again, Elisa Maza stepping through.

"There he is!" she muttered, running to his side.

"What's happened, come on!" she said. "I know you're not like this… you wanted Raychell, she's not here. But you're not in your right mind… are you?"

He groggily glanced up at her, eyes glazed over. Blood seeped out his nose, trickling down his lip. A strange, silver ooze mingled with the blood, glinting amidst the red.

"Uh... my head..."

"What's going on here?" Xanatos asked, raising an eyebrow as he frowned. "What is that strange silvery substance..."

"I have a nasty suspicion..." Owen muttered, glancing at the blood mingled with silver.

"That's what I'd like to know. He said meet me at the apartment, and when I got there I found him running out to catch a bus!" Elisa shrugged. Fox and Owen wrestled him towards the medical suite.

"Definitely a case of psychosis," Owen said as he turned to Xanatos. "I sensed the buildup of his powers, directed towards you, Mrs. Xanatos..."

"But why me?" she asked. "Why now of all times?"

"He called me at the precinct house, babbling about Lucia running out like a wild woman," Elisa shrugged as they stood near a lab counter. Fox rubbed her son's head, concern in her eyes while he lay there on a hospital bed.

Xanatos glanced at the microscope. Fox had smeared a sample of Keith's blood on a slide. "I can't believe it..." he muttered. "No wonder! Damn!"

Elisa turned to him, questions in her dark eyes. "Nanites," he said, turning to Fox. "Nanotechnology imbedded in with the blood samples..."

Fox left her patient's side, moving towards the scope. "Unbelievable. Something must have imbedded Nanites into Mr. Pulaski's brain... and the jarring of his power lodged them loose..."

"Nanites? Like those ones in Australia?" Elisa asked.

"Right," Fox muttered grimly. "But these are tailored for a human body. To remake it in any way necessary. But what were they doing in this kid's head?"

"Modifying his behavior, into a psychotic state," Xanatos scratched his head.

"But how would Nanites get into his body?" Elisa asked. "Without a trace?"

"Presumably someone could implant them or they'd find their own way to the target regions of the body," Fox said, focusing the microscope as she tapped a few keys on the computer. There, blown up many times was the image of red blood cells, and torn neuron fibers. "Whatever it was, it tangled up with nerve fibers, and wrapped right around them. If you look there, it appeared that some nerve fibers were actually Nanites fashioning themselves into neurons!"

"Incredible," Xanatos muttered. "Whoever did this was a pro!"

"Any of your guys able to do this?" Elisa glared accusingly.

"The Nanites I developed at Cyberbiotics were working towards this. But we hadn't ever used them for such a specific purpose..." she muttered.

"Can you trace the source?" Elisa asked.

"No, they don't' have a logo printed in their side," she muttered. "David, could you be a dear and check into the latest from Golden Cup? See if they've made any strides into neuronal research..."

"I thought you would have known, my dear?" he teased.

"I've been busy with my modeling career," she rested hands on her hips. "I've been out of the nanite field for a while... David darling..."

"Guys, I'm going back to the apartment. Maybe I can find some evidence..." Elisa said.

"Raychell..." came Keith's groan. Fox moved back to his side, stroking his sweaty forehead.

"Easy there, easy..." she hushed him.

Slowly he blinked, glancing up at her. "I'm... sorry... I didn't mean to say those things...Mrs. Xanatos you have to forgive me…"

"We know. Somebody was manipulating you from inside..." she explained.

"I... saw... something. That second before I blacked out. Images... of Lucia... people... in white coats... running around..."

"What?" Elisa cocked an eyebrow.

"She's... someplace... white... it all came in bursts... then everything went psycho..." he trailed off as he blacked out again.

"Owen, get me a list of top nanite facilities, off and on the record, now," Xanatos snapped his fingers.

"At once sir."

Elisa excused herself, and moved out towards the door. Leaving Fox leaning over her unconscious patient. A strange tenderness crept into her face, much like that when she was in the presence of Alex. Many things had been brought to the surface today, and she had to admit the kid was growing on her. He often showed up to help Raychell with something, and ended up becoming fast friends with Lexington, who was also a computer geek. His mom was gone, and he lived with a bunch of guys in a loft, in a rock band. She had sympathy for him, because he reminded him of a younger her.

* * *

MacBeth clicked his cell phone off, grumbling to himself. He turned to Matt Bluestone. "Well, she's no answering."

"I told you we have to wait twenty four hours before we file a missing person's report," Matt explained patiently.

"I have a suspicion where she is," MacBeth said, eyes fixing into Matt's. They stood next to her pink vehicle, to the side of the road with her purse still intact. A pile of tickets had built up under the right wind shield wiper.

Just then Elisa came down from the apartment, shaking her head. "It's nuts. I found something. And you're not gonna like it..."

"More bad news?" he asked.

"No trace of what I was looking for," she shrugged.

"And what wuild that be?" MacBeth raised an eyebrow.

"It's a stretch. Hey, what's he doing here?"

"I'm concerned about a young lady who was supposed t' meet me fer dinner and the showing of Ragtime," MacBeth answered, hands in the pockets of an elegant raincoat overtop of a pleasant suit. All dressed up and no place to go. "I've been calling her all afternoon. Finally came to see if she was in need of assistance... to find yer partner here..."

"Look Mr. MacDuff, we're doing all we can, but you're not helping us by watching us like a hawk..."

"Wuildn't yer-**_connections_**- know anything we haven't tried," MacBeth raised an eyebrow.

"What are you..." Matt asked, before MacBeth glanced towards his lapel. Of course he never wore it in public, but how could MacBeth have known?

"Yer... _friends_," MacBeth gave a wry grin. "Are known t' me as well. In fact ye might say they've had a vested interest in me for some time... considering how they like to think they can last... ferever..."

"All right, level with me," Elisa grabbed Matt's hand. "What is all this about?"

"Ye know something lass, I can tell by the glint in yer eye. Something t' do with where Lucia might be. Something's happened, and ye dinna want me t' know. A lass is missing, and I demand to know what yer going t' do about it!"

"Look, I could have you in for obstructing the Police," Elisa snapped, sick of his sudden crack.

"Elisa, no," Matt sighed. "Okay, you win. I have a nasty suspicion, but we can't talk about it here..."

They climbed into the Fairlaine, and Elisa began to drive around the block. MacBeth leaned over the seat as the two partners compared notes.

"We've got silver goop so far, and a missing person. But that doesn't mean that Lucia's disappearance is tied to Keith Pulaski going crazy..."

"Like the devil it isn't," MacBeth snorted. "I have a suspicion or twa myself. And it has mainly t' do with people going daft. And it's no coincidence that Lucia has gone... and ye know it!"

"Keith Pulaski... had an incident himself..." Elisa sighed. "But that has no connection with the other episodes..."

"It very much does. And I have my own suspicions..."

"How so?" Matt narrowed his eyes.

"Certain goings on. Just recently in the mail I had received a CD-ROM for Crystal Springs sanitarium. At first I laughed it off. And then the name arose at the sudden outbreaks of commitments... some wealthy associates of mine have become patients there. And I have a suspicion that it is no coincidence that all the new patients are gargoyle sympathizers. And now Lucia and Keith have had episodes..."

"All right," Matt sighed. "I've had a similar theory. But I don't know about trying to get proof of it..."

"Guys, I'm still trying to piece this together myself. I have a lead too, but the problem is getting Captain Chavez to buy it..."

"Well?" MacBeth and Matt demanded.

"It's that kid Keith. He saw something before he... fainted. Men in white coats."

"That's it," MacBeth's eyes opened wide. "We must look there. The Crystal Springs sanitarium."

"Whoa, wait a minute, what's this we stuff?" Matt asked turning to MacBeth. "You're not a police officer as I recall..."

"He's right. Leave this to us..." Elisa said. She pulled up at Matt's building, just as Matt's wristwatch chimed four thirty.

"I'm pulling a double shift tonight," Elisa said. "Make sure you get some sleep Matt, cause I'll need your backup..."

Both got out of the car, and watched her drive away. MacBeth took Matt's arm as he turned to go into his apartment. "Wait a minute lad. I know there is a connection. And I can prove it!"

"Look, Mr. MacDuff, leave this to us okay?" Matt sighed. "Now if you don't mind I'm tired, and I have to pull a shift tonight... so if I could just get five hours of sleep..."

"What if I could take you to the Sanitarium, and prove that Miss Domiguez is there..."

"Are you nuts?" Matt Bluestone asked. "You want to go where?"

MacBeth scowled, straightening his tie as he glanced in the mirror surface of the entrance to Matt's apartment house. "If ye are not into this, leave now..."

"Look I'm just as curious as the next person, but this... this is really a reach, even for me?"

"And Elisa said you were the conspiracy hound," MacBeth quipped.

"Do you realize what you're saying?"

"I do lad. And it might just interest you to be able to solve a most mysterious case... if I am correct... are you interested?" he asked.

"I feel absolutely stupid," Matt muttered, fixing the wire-framed glasses to his nose. The detective ripped off his coat, wearing a white hospital smock. He slicked his hair back with a bit of mousse, and grabbed a clipboard and some pencils, thrusting them into his smock's breast pocket. MacBeth straightened his tie in the mirror, and snapped the clasps on his briefcase deftly.

"I thought ye liked working undercover," MacBeth quipped, as his limousine pulled up to the parking lot. From beneath a chauffeur's cap, MacBeth's driver watched the smug face on his employer, and the irate glare his guest stabbed him with. It was not his duty to wonder why his boss did anything, the chauffeur realized, punching the button that raised the partition.

"All right, I'm reminding you this isn't on my duty," he grumbled.

"Get ready," MacBeth said. "Then slip in round back... and wait fer me t' come into the guest reception area. Oh in aboot, thirty minutes..."

When no one was looking, Matt slipped out of the car, and walked around the building to the service entrance. A group of interns was returning from lunch presumably, their smocks visible under their outside jackets and coats. He slipped his own coat, moving into the column as a girl slipped out her badge and swiped it through the card reader.

"Thanks," Matt grinned, following the knot of interns and orderlies in.

"No problem. This your first week too?"

"Yeah..." he laughed. He stuck close to the heels of the worker before him, following them into the quiet hallways of the sanitarium. He was in!

For a moment he got his bearings, pretending to be scribbling on a notebook. As soon as eyes fell on him he merged with another group of chatting orderlies, getting in from a cigarette. He could smell the scent on the large man to the left.

They halted before the admissions desk. Matt listened to snatches of conversation. So far there had been little sign of any patients. He glanced out past the double doors to the reception lobby. To one side he saw a silver haired gentleman walking in, briefcase in hand. That beard was unmistakable. MacBeth was in too!

MacBeth casually wandered up to the desk, catching Bluestone out of the corner of his eye. "I'd like to visit a patient," he said.

"Are you a relative?"

"Well, let's just say I was her professor at school. I wanted to see if she needed any help... with her studies..."

"Sir, if you're not a relative..."

Matt Bluestone choked. That blonde figure in the hall fixed her ice blue eyes upon his, and he backed into the nearest room, clutching his clipboard. He bumped into MacBeth, who was talking to one of the nurses.

"I simply want to ask if a Miss Domiguez is here..."

"We cannot release any information to you sir. Our patients have the strictest of confidentiality..."

"Right of course," MacBeth gritted, trying to keep a civil look upon his face. "Whoof..."

"Sorry... sir..." Matt choked, his chest heaving up and down.

"What's the meaning of..." MacBeth began before he realized who it was. Matt pulled him out of earshot of the nurse.

"She is here..."

"Lucia?" MacBeth almost shouted. "Where..."

"Not her. Margot."

"Orderly? Excuse me!" called the receptionist. "Can you come here for a moment..."

"I'm just answering this gentleman's questions," Matt coughed, pushing the horn-rimmed specs up further on his nose.

Just then Margot Yale rounded the corner, with two white-coated figures at her shoulders. Matt hid himself behind MacBeth in an effort to look inconspicuous.

"Gentlemen, how long has that orderly been employed here?"

"He just started here today..."

"He looks rather familiar... don't you... Mr..."

Matt froze, it was all over. Just then MacBeth shoved himself in front of Margot, a wild look in his eyes.

"Get that witch away from me!" he howled, raising his hands before his face.

"I beg your pardon..." Margot asked, as Matt suddenly grabbed MacBeth around the waist.

"Easy Mr. MacDuff... easy..."

"Ye thought ye cuild fool me wi' yer curse! This king is he that rules in stead..."

"I'm sorry..." Matt tried to restrain him as Margot gasped. A maniacal look sprang in MacBeth's face as he strained against Matt and several security guards who slowly came into view.

"Is he... crazy?" Margot gasped.

MacBeth shoved Bluestone out of the way, grabbing one of the doctors by the lapels as he shouted, "Am I thus betrayed! To be played into the hands of one not of a woman born?"

"Sir... calm down..."

"Mr. MacDuff, please..." Margot cried, as she saw him wrestling with the doctor.

"MacDuff! He was the one who hath slain me! And you... can you wash the blood from yer hands that ye murdered the King!"

"Mr. MacDuff, it's going to be all right," the psychiatrist said, struggling against the powerful hold upon his shoulders. He was thrown aside as MacBeth grabbed the astonished Margot.

"Aye the blood is thick on yer hands! Out, out damned spot!" he shouted, before two guards gripped him in their powerful holds. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Matt Bluestone beating a safe if hasty retreat.

"Mr. MacDuff! Calm down!" came the shouts as MacBeth struggled. Then he collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor as Margot was gently urged from the room. She shook her head, clearly puzzled.

"Any luck?" somebody cheerfully asked. With a shriek Fox nearly leapt a foot out of her chair. Fox Xanatos looked up from the microscope, to see Lexington peering over her shoulder.

"Hey, watch it," she snapped irritably. "I don't need any gray hairs!"

"I've got a better idea on how you could analyze that," he suggested, holding a CD-ROM in his hands.

"Anything would help," Fox grumbled, shoving a lock of flame hair behind one ear. She slipped the safety glasses further up her nose.

"Come right this way, to the computer lab..."

"How is playing your video game going to..."

"Can you upload the observations from the light microscope into the directory here?" he asked.

"I can ftp it..." She sighed, and put aside the gear. A few taps of the keys and she slipped her data disk into Lex's terminal across the room.

"Ok, great. Now put on your gear, and let's go," Lexington laughed. Fox did as she was told, and reality itself merged into a strange gray room.

It was a realm without boundaries, stretching into gray infinity. "I don't care for your decor," Fox shrugged, noticing she was wearing a crisp white lab smock. Lexington was there before her, a spectral gargoyle shape that flashed and flickered with the strange lines of numbers before him. He actually pushed letters and numbers as if they were beads on an abacus.

"Okay, bring up the data here..." he said. Fox moved her arm, and grabbed a small glowing packet that swirled into her grasp. She unwrapped it, forming a two dimensional plane before both of them. Lexington tossed several bits of numbers from his string towards it, and it expanded into several thousand views of the microscope scans.

"Now, let's get a simulation of it..." he said, and tossed a glowing number three and a d at the image. Fox blinked as a hissing pyrotechnics display almost exploded into her face. She'd have to talk to him about being so melodramatic and literal with the graphical avatars!

Before them both a shimmering image coalesced into a small point, then slowly blew up to about Lexington's size as he expanded his arms. The odd shape was flat, with tiny ciliated protuberances, segmented. At the top was a chemotactic sensor, and within were tiny filaments of microcircuitry.

"It's a single chip etching... at the molecular level," Fox muttered. "Incredible!"

"Look at that there... a small em pulse modulator," Lexington pointed out, at a protuberance on the underside of the flat object, much like a little spider. A small nozzle like attachment fitted out the back.

"What does that do?" Fox muttered, and flickered a strange orb that allowed her to toggle the view in three dimensions.

"Run simulation," Lex muttered. Suddenly the nanite joined a swarm of others. Small filaments expanded out the port nozzle, in a triple helix.

"Collagen strands," Fox muttered. "And adipose tissue! That things making adipose!"

"You mean fat?"

"The brain is mostly fat. It's making a neuron!"

"Omigod," Lex muttered under his virtual breath.

"The collagen is a support matrix... and look, the nanites are joining in places to form the head of the neuron... and the filaments are taking up a gap formation... and... Oh!" Fox gasped as she noticed the sparks of light jumping like real neurons.

"Custom made brain cells..." Lexington muttered.

"So these nanites make new neural pathways... or affect preexisting ones... and those microchip fibers inside..." She muttered. "Run a simulation to determine the macroscale affects..."

Calculations flew from Lexington's palate, and onto Fox's. Back and forth their calculations collided and split, merging into new ones. The few nanites shrank to a silver glob working over simulated brain tissues like a disease. Till at last both Lexington and Fox shared a gasp of astonishment.

"Alpha wave generation," Fox gritted. "A pulse modulation in each chip..."

"Creates hallucinations, and literal thoughts in whomever programs them," Lexington completed.

"He did what?" Elisa asked, her eyebrows raising nearly off her forehead. She had pulled her Fairlaine up to the back entrance of the sanitarium as Matt slipped out. Now they roared back towards the City, and a very uncertain reception. Matt had called her in a panic, pulling her off a promising cup of coffee at Starbucks with her muffins. The remains of the repast lay between them on the seats of Elisa's car.

"Went crazy. Right in front of my eyes," Matt said. "I don't know what happened. But as soon as he saw Margot Yale there, he flipped."

"What would Margot Yale be doing at an insane asylum?" Elisa asked. "And what were you doing there, when you were off the clock?"

"MacBeth had a great hunch... and Margot was there!"

"Matt... That doesn't prove anything!" Elisa exclaimed, frustrated. "And you weren't even on duty for this!"

"I don't know. I think I saw Lucia Domiguez there, in the halls as a patient. But I can't say for sure it was her..."

"And now MacBeth's been committed. That's just perfect," Elisa muttered.

"I don't think he really had gone crazy... at least I think he didn't..." Matt muttered. "It would be too much of a coincidence that he went off the instant he saw me in danger of being recognized."

"Margot Yale saw you?" Elisa's voice raised in pitch.

"Just a glimpse," Matt sighed. "But that's the end of this undercover assignment..."

"We don't have enough to go on, even if Lucia is there," Elisa said.

"But we can't just leave MacBeth there, can we?" Matt asked.

"He can take care of himself. If he went to the trouble to fake being crazy, we gotta trust what he's doing. But I sure don't like it..."

"MacBeth in a sanitarium?"

"What he might do, if Lucia is there..."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Elisa shook her head. Just then the phone rang. Matt's questioning gaze met with a frown from Elisa. The mood had gone from bad to rotten.

"What now?"

"That was Captain Chavez," she sighed, clanging the phone down. "You're on probation for this, Matt…"

"No case?" asked Matt.

"Yeah. She's reassigning us to patrol. Babysitting PITT rallies," Elisa muttered in disgust.

"Margot couldn't have seen me... could she," Matt muttered. "Sorry Elisa. Blew it this time..."

"Well, no use crying over spilled milk. Can't go back now…" Elisa sighed. "But I wonder what the hell Margot Yale was doing there anyway…"

Dr. Bleuth scratched his head as he looked over the latest admission. "Lennox MacDuff," he muttered to the orderly. "Is that who that fellow in the lobby was?"

"Yes. He went totally bananas, and it took six of us to hold him now..."

"And where is he?"

"Calm as a pussycat. Once Ms. Yale left, he was very cooperative..."

"Speaking of her, I had best see if she is all right," Dr. Bleuth excused himself. Walking down the hall he came to an oak paneled suite of offices.

Margot sat in a chair in Dr. Bleuth's office, fanning her face. Sweat streaked her forehead, blanched with blood. "I can't believe that..." she gasped.

Dr. Bleuth handed her a cup of coffee. "I'm very sorry about that. Are you... all right?"

"Yes..." she breathed, sipping hot java. It seemed to bring color back into her pale face. Blond eyelashes fluttered over blue eyes. "That man almost killed me!"

"He's fine now. But none of us counted on him... being committed..."

"I take it that he wasn't expected..."

"He had come here complaining of difficulties sleeping, of the usual rigors of a college professor. But he's never acted out..."

"Still... I hope you have him out of the way..."

"Not to worry. His Medicare will be quite an asset to this place, Ms. Yale. I doubt anyone will take him seriously again after that little outburst. After all we know what lunatics those Gargoyle lovers can be..."

"Yes," she sipped her coffee again. "And hopefully the rest of the world will see the sanity you provide..."

"Yes indeed," he winked, glancing at the small silver hammer around her neck. He fingered his lapel pin, a small hammer beneath the white labcoat he now wore as a psychologist on staff.

"But I am still worried about that orderly... I recognized him from the police force! Detective Bluestone!"

"I doubt he found anything..." Dr. Bleuth assured her. "Didn't you tell me he had a case of paranoia? That's all they will see it as..."

"Yes," she smiled craftily. "He does have a reputation for conspiracy theories. I think the captain will simply see it as that..."

There came a knock on the door. An orderly poked his head and shoulders in, swinging the door partway. "Sorry to interrupt sir, but we have a new patient..."

"I know. I'll see them soon. Ms. Yale I do apologize for the situation in the lobby. Surely you can see the need for our special treatment..."

All was said in earshot of the orderly. Margot Yale collected her purse, slipping the strap over her padded shoulder.

"I want to know why my son isn't here," she said softly. "It's well and good that Miss Dominguez is here… but I had hoped my son…"

"He will be found. He will receive the special treatment also…"

"How effective... is the special treatment?" she asked with lowered voice.

"Hmm, it all depends upon the will of the individual. You know how they say one cannot hypnotize a person against their will? Well, there have been experiments recently with a sort of em transmitter that can produce alpha waves in a person's mind to create biofeedback. Recent studies have indicated the chip has to be in the cerebral cortex... to stimulate the temporal lobe, responsible for human thought."

"But for those... more difficult people... how does it exactly work?"

"You know all those UFO reports. Delusions of paranoia, being watched? Many cases can be explained if a subject is placed within a high electromagnetic field that stimulates the temporal lobe. Feelings of paranoia, being watched, even the strange night terrors that people have."

"Still... it's quite hard to swallow," Margot Yale muttered.

"Studies indicate that a reverse process is possible. That same microchip can manipulate electromagnetic fields in the brain inducing euphoria. But that's still in the experimental stage..."

"How can you get a person to have a microchip in them? And wouldn't it need a source of electromagnetic radiation?"

"Most televisions throw out massive amounts of electromagnetic radiation. It's at the wrong frequency however. There are small enough dampers that can modify the signal in a television set to the right frequency and pinpoint it in the exact location... And getting the chip inside is simplicity itself... if one uses Nanites... to construct it inside the brain..."

"All very interesting," Margot muttered. "So a normally healthy sane person can be made to go... insane?"

"I wouldn't put it beyond the realm of possibility... but usually those with feelings of paranoia tend to tell their psychologist first... and many of my clients are among the richest individuals. They would pay a great price to have such a quick cure to their feelings of paranoia. And you must agree we live in a very paranoid time. Many of my best patients have received the surgery for this chip, and are responding quite well..."

"But I wanted to know why she was targeted, and not my son… you said my son would be here…"

"Seems that he managed to elude the target. But we'll get him soon enough."

"You'd better," she sighed. "God…"

"Doctor, there is a problem," said one of the technicians as he moved in with a file. He handed it to Dr. Bleuth, who looked at it and frowned.

"What? What's that about?" Margot demanded.

"It's our newest patient. She seems to have an unusually strong resistance to the current therapy," said Dr. Bleuth. "In some cases drugs are necessary to facilitate the process. The usual battery... and once the patient starts to respond positively..."

"Is there any hope for her? I need to know… my son's future depends on this…" she said. "If there are any problems…"

"There shouldn't be. By tomorrow morning, we'll find your son, it's only a matter of time…"

"I hope so…"

"Castaway has said he's got his best men working on it…"

"Castaway," she nodded. "But Bill could be anywhere…"

"There is always hope. He has students who are recruits who will find your son. Especially those in the new fraternity. Their leader is a remarkable young man… and he has a personal stake in this too. Apparently it's not so bad Miss Lucia Dominguez is a patient here after all," said Dr. Bleuth.

"Why?"

"You recall Cesar Ramierez?" asked Dr. Bleuth.

"Yes… he was assaulted by Lennox MacDuff," said Margot as she remembered hearing about the case. "And he said that there were false charges of assault on him, which were later disproved…"

"He and Lucia were supposed to be married. But it turns out that he thinks she's been brainwashed by the PITT crew. He heard about your son Bill, and he thinks he's seen him recently. He personally swore to the Quarrymen at our last meeting that he wouldn't rest till Bill Yale was found and brought safely home to his mother, after being rehabilitated."

"Thank God," she whispered. "We need more upstanding men like him… but he must be worried about Lucia Dominguez…"

"He is. Either way I doubt she will be... disruptive as you describe her."

* * *


	9. Canmore's Revenge

**__**

Part 9 Canmore's legacy of hate

* * *

"MacBeth? Crazy?" Raychell shook her head. "Never!"

"Easy there," said Hudson as he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Tis all right lass…"

"Hey relax, Elisa's on the case," Broadway rested a talon on her shoulder. "It's gonna be okay..."

Elisa Maza regarded the Gargoyles, who all sat clustered around their detective friend with interest. Hudson rested his hand upon his sword hilt, and his other on Raychell's shoulder, while Brooklyn stood at Goliath's right. Broadway and Angela perched on the couch. "I didn't think he'd go nuts," Brooklyn muttered.

"I didn't believe it either," Elisa shook her head. "It's just too convenient."

"This is the third time," Broadway fingered his chin.

"What was that?" Elisa asked.

"It's kinda a pattern... right Elisa? Another rich person going crazy, and being committed. It happened to that gal on the game show, and now MacBeth... and he's really rich..."

"You have a point," Elisa said. "But what else do they have in common, other then being rich?"

Hudson glanced at Broadway, then to Brooklyn. Brooklyn nodded. "What?" Broadway asked.

"We didn't want to tell you this... but..." Angela began.

"What is going on here?" Elisa asked.

"You know... how you liked that one model, Carissa Desiree?" asked Brooklyn.

"What... do you mean?" Broadway asked. "Did something happen to her?"

"Something did happen to her," said Angela gently, fingering his arm. "She... well..."

"Tell me!" Broadway's eyes flared hot white. "What happened?"

"She was... well... she went crazy earlier today. Hudson saw it on the news just before you came here Elisa..." Brooklyn finished. Broadway's face crumpled with anxiety, and sadness.

"No, not her!" he cried. "She was the leader of PIT!"

"I'm sorry," Hudson shook his head. "I meant t' tell ye earlier..."

"It's those lousy Quarrymen! Making her scared with their damn rioting!" Brooklyn growled.

"She's not scared of them, no way!" Broadway shook his head. "She's brave... and she wouldn't let..."

"It's hard being a celebrity spokesperson," Brooklyn broke in. "Maybe the stress got to her..."

"No way!" Broadway shouted, flexing his talons. "She never... she never..."

"Wait, this is important," Elisa suddenly snapped her fingers. "Gargoyle sympathizer, rich person! It fits..."

"What fits?" Fox asked.

"You mean that she and MacBeth are related because they both went crazy and are rich and gargoyles supporters?" asked Brooklyn.

"Yes... well kind of. But it still could be a coincidence. We still don't know if Carter was a gargoyles supporter..."

"Who cares! They got to Carissa! Those lousy quarrymen will pay!" Broadway roared.

"Pipe down lad!" Hudson growled, restraining him as Goliath moved to his friend.

"We have all sympathy for you, Broadway," Goliath rumbled in his ear. "But you must not let your anger rule your action! We all hate the Quarrymen for how they have pressed our hearts with fear..."

"It's not fair!" Broadway cried. Hudson gently patted him on the shoulder as Angela moved to hug him. Just then, Fox and Lexington wandered into the main room, eyes bleary from the VR simulation.

"I'm sorry big guy. But we don't know if it was the Quarrymen..."

"And what about MacBeth?" asked Raychell, as she felt Hudson's hand gently stroking the back of her shoulders to reassure her. "He didn't have any quarrymen visits in the last week... and he's been..."

Here she choked, and Hudson put a comforting arm around her. "Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this... I know yer quite fond of him from auld… dinna look so shocked lass… he had a personal word wi me himself…"

"You didn't tell me about that," she looked at him with wide eyes.

"Let's jest say we've reached an understanding," said Hudson quietly, and Raychell sighed with relief.

"But he did defend the Gargoyles on Nightwatch," Elisa muttered, drawing notes in her police book with a number 2 pencil. "It does make a connection. But how and why they both went crazy is all too neat. And the fact it was at that mental hospital..."

"Is Carissa a patient there too?" asked Lexington. "I mean if other people have been sent there that have gone crazy..."

"How do we know if MacBeth really is crazy?" asked Raychell. "I mean... he's been alive for over a thousand years it would take more then that to harm him. He's got a remarkably strong will..."

"But we know what causes the craziness, at least in KEITH. It was nanotechnology," Lexington interrupted. "And even that would..."

"What do you mean?" Goliath asked.

"She's got a point. MacBeth doesn't seem the kind that would go crazy," Elisa licked the end of her pencil.

"Maybe he wanted to act crazy so he could get into the hospital for some reason," Raychell said quietly. "Maybe... he was going after Lucia..."

"Guys it was nanotechnology!" Lexington called out.

Everyone turned, stunned. "Nanotechnology?" Elisa gasped.

"We ran a simulation," Fox announced. "That's what drove KEITH over the edge. And I'll bet if you look in the apartment... You'll find evidence for nanites..."

"Which means Lucia might have been affected too!" said Raychell angrily.

"I spoke with Owen. One of the top research facilities for nanotechnology... there were researchers who were working at Cyberbiotics that now work at the Crystal Springs sanitarium. It's top secret... but it's too much of a coincidence..."

"Why would she be there?" Elisa asked. "I heard rumors from MacBeth... but that place is for rich people. And Lucia's not rich... at least as far as I know..."

"Well somebody could have put her there," Raychell said.

"Like her creepy ex boyfriend Cesar you mean?" muttered Brooklyn. The though horrified Raychell, even though she wouldn't put it past her to try.

"Uh guys. There's no proof. She's 20 years old. We've got missing person's report filed. If MacBeth did try that, he'd better be ready to not try anything stupid..." Elisa shook her head.

"Maybe one of us should go and make sure to tell him," Raychell suggested. "I mean... to see if he really is..."

"Really is loony tunes?" Brooklyn asked. Hudson stepped on his tail.

"We can continue to search the city for your friend," Goliath suggested. "We won't stop looking till we find her..."

"If you two are thinking of going there... be careful," Elisa wagged her finger. "The last thing we need is an institution complaining of delusions of Gargoyles..."

"Leave that to me," Lexington grinned. He winked at Raychell as he moved over to the laptop computer.

"What have you got in mind," she asked her friend suspiciously. The gargoyles dispersed like a flock of pigeons rushing away from an angry pedestrian.

"The best thing to do, is to get a layout, so they don't know to expect me," he grinned. Dexterous claws punched keys as Lexington drifted through cyberspace. Raychell's eyes lit up as she realized just what he was about to do.

"Then I can access this computer through a palm top... and link online. That way I can hack into the records and see if Lucia's there or not..."

"Quite good, for primitive computer technology," Raychell nodded. Lexington looked at her with a momentary annoyed look, and Hudson folded his arms across his chest with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Tis not every solution in that wee magic box," he quipped.

"Do you want my help or not?" Lex asked.

"Hudson, behave," Raychell glanced at him. It was Lexington's turn to smirk, and Hudson coughed as he gave a rather sour look.

"I'll be watchin the TV," he said. "If ye need me… as likely ye dinna."

"Very well, if that's what you wish," Raychell said as she shook her head, and Hudson walked off. Lexington grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"You really got under his skin…" he shook his head.

"I didn't want him to be such a grump," said Raychell with an annoyed look.

"Well maybe you should make sure he doesn't?" Lex winked.

"Once you take care of Delilah," she said.

"Um… okay, I deserved that," Lex said as he held up his hands.

"Let's get to work," Ray said. "My friend's in trouble…"

* * *

MacBeth had merely pretended to be asleep. As soon as his eyes had popped shut the orderlies had left the room. He glimpsed sidelong as he was pushed down the hallway, and into a private room. What had come over him? He had only eaten a quick meal of Chinese food with Matt Bluestone, and somehow had that disagreed with him.

He was wheeled into place, and shifted onto his bed. It was quiet. Too quiet for the immortal king. Was it his imagination, or was he being watched. Slowly he fought the urge to shut his eyes. As he blinked them open he could swear he heard a child's laugh.

"Eh?" He muttered, his eyes popping open. For in one corner he could swear he saw a boy. Aged twelve.

"Gillcomaign?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. It was impossible! Against reason that someone dead and gone so many years should be here.

"Ye idjit, why do ye just lay there! And ye think yer a king?"

"What... how... you're not real!" MacBeth snapped.

"Ye canna even fight the Demon! Some Hunter ye are!" he laughed, and it seemed as if a brown splotch hit him straight in the eye. MacBeth wiped it aside with his hand, feeling slimy ooze between his fingers. Mud! Mud here in a hospital?

"Why you little..." he snarled, arms ripping free of the restraints. He leapt to his feet, the floor cold beneath them. Still the laughter continued, and MacBeth charged forwards, his hands going for the child's neck.

"Father, help me!" coughed the child.

"Luach?" he gasped, removing his hands. "Son... is it ye?"

"Let go of me!" he shouted, backing away with fear in his eyes.

"It's me... your Da!" he cried. "My boy I've missed you so? Do you not know your own father?"

The boy rushed away, MacBeth on his heels, till he collided with a solid body. Powerful hands grasped MacBeth, pushing him away. He stared up in shock to see a triple scars marring the face of a mean faced man, who hid the frightened Luach behind his back. A fist flashed out, and all MacBeth saw was a red flash. Blood trickled out of his nose.

"Why you amadon!" he roared. "Give my son back!"

"Da... that mean man was tryin' ta choke me..."

"I'll let none harm ye, son," he snarled. "What sort of a man lays hands on a defenseless boy?"

"No, it's not like that! He's my son?"

"Oh, and I suppose his mother is your wife?"

"Gillcomaign!" MacBeth roared. "I swear I'll rend your insides asunder for your treachery!"

His hands hit empty air. Whirling about he heard a grunting of agony. A woman's cries and low moans as if she were being slowly impaled. Could it be? He knew that voice, every angle of its tones. "Gruoch..." he stammered, heart stopping a beat.

He whirled about. For she lay there, in his bed, writhing as her head tossed back. Someone had thrown her to the bed while his back was turned, repeatedly torturing her. Angrily he pulled the sheet back to reveal someone there upon his wife. The face turned, and a smile grinned. Gruoch looked up into the face of the man with perfect love and contentment in her eyes.

It was not torture but the sounds of lovemaking. MacBeth took two steps back in shock, for Gillcomaign showered his wife, his Gruoch with passion, her fingers digging into that blonde hair, her cries of passion screaming his name! Not MacBeth... but his!

"My love... even you betray me," he gasped.

"You had said, that I am not worth the trouble," she said, glancing sidelong at him with nothing but pity. "And now you are alone. A man without a country..."

"No!" MacBeth shouted at the top of his lungs. "Noooo!"

An awful drilling pain in his head, MacBeth pressed hands to his head, fingernails tearing at his scalp. It felt as if an icepick had lodged its way into his brain, and wasn't about to dislodge any time soon. Something was attacking from within his mind. Had to think past the pain he was feeling.

"Now... and always one..." MacBeth gritted, as the words formed into his brain from some unknown yet familiar source. Something was giving him the strength to fight it. A strength that had seen him through years of loneliness and anger. A hatred of being manipulated by Fate, and it's children.

"Demona..." he gasped. For the anger and hatred had a name. Now and forever they were bound, mind and soul. A purpose to exist, if not to destroy her, then to hunt her down and avoid her at all costs!

MacBeth threw himself onto the bed, his fingers rending sheets asunder. A shudder went through his entire body as his cry rang in the empty room. Fire exploded behind his eyes. A bright flash that ended all senses.

When he came too there was a dull throbbing ache. He lay on his side, curled up on the floor. Blessed silence filled the room, and he felt blood on his hands, from his nose. Slowly he pinched off the flow of blood staining his hands. He rolled to his knees, pressing his hands against the floor. The pain was gone, thank god it was abated.

"I... don't believe it," he gulped, hugging his stomach as he lay one hand upon the bed to pull himself to shaky legs. "Demona... I felt her mind in mine..."

A soft tapping came from behind glass. He staggered over to where it was, in the direction of the window. Double pained safety glass afforded an odd view, for a ghoulish face pressed itself against the glass.

"Lexington," he stammered, mouth dry. He could not open the window, for it was sealed shut.

The gargoyle glanced to his left, and pulled out a small pen shaped device. There came a sizzling, and slowly a line etched itself. Raychell to his left placed a suction plate to the glass, and both pulled.

Relief filled his face at the sight of the two gargoyles slipping in through the circle. How had they bypassed the alarm system?

"Malbeatha, are you all right?" Raychell asked, slipping her arm under his to steady him.

"Yes lass... I hope to God I am," he staggered against her, and Lexington.

"You were in so much pain... I was afraid for you..." she whispered. "God what did these primitive bastards do to you?"

"How... did you find me?" MacBeth asked.

"We got Keith to thank for that," Lex laughed. "Hey, you don't look so good. What kind of drug did they use on you?"

"Not a drug, nanites," Raychell hissed.

MacBeth's hands closed around something. It felt like blood, but something gritty that had come from his nose. Amidst the blood was a glittering powder, which caught Lexington's sharp eyes. A sour smell met his and Raychell's nostrils over the iron smell of hemoglobin. "Wait... lemmie look at that," Lex muttered, reaching into Raychell's tote and pulling out a small magnifier.

"This is not just blood," he muttered. "Whoa... I'm getting something really weird..."

"It looks like... what Keith..." Raychell gasped. "Nanotechnology… damn…"

"That's right," Lexington gritted. "Someone implanted you... sir..."

"Implanted?" MacBeth growled. "Then..."

They could see the flashes of thought connecting in MacBeth's mind. He straightened up, resolved. "I need you to do me a favor, both of ye. Can I send ye on an errand? My car's in the lot, and there's something inside I need t' fetch..."

"Oh no, we're getting you out of here, right now, this is NO time to be brave MacBeth…" Raychell said, taking his arm. "You were in so much pain..."

"I can't bypass the security forever," Lex grumbled, pulling his palmtop in from outside. "And I can't get into the main files! Those nanites are being manufactured here… but I can't get into the access codes that tell about their programming…"

"If ye got into a lab, could ye?" MacBeth asked.

"Yes, I could. But security is so tight it'd be a bear to get by…"

"Ye won't have t'. Raychell... are ye still able t' use some form of telepathy… remember back when we were escapin the Spanish Inquisition…"

"Yes… but it's been ages since I used my abilities that way…"

"What do you mean?" Lex asked.

"MacBeth here is referring to a Time Lord ability. Some of us are psychic, moderately. In my last regeneration I was capable of tuning into people's brainwaves and blurring their minds to make myself and whomever I wanted to invisible. But it takes great concentration…"

"Ye have t' try lass," MacBeth said softly. "Please…"

"I can try…Anything... are you sure you're okay?"

"I will be... soon..." MacBeth rubbed his nose. "Now Raychell, here is what I want ye t' do lass…"

* * *

Again she surfaced from the blackness of drugged sleep. Lucia Domiguez shook her mass of curls, thick with sweat as she lifted heavy lids. It was dark, not pitch black, but the muted shades with a crack of brightness from under a door. She pulled at her wrists, feeling the resistance of Velcro. They didn't take any chances, after their last meeting.

"Perfect," she muttered. Out in the hall she heard footsteps, stopping close in her door. Just what she needed. Another man in a little white coat either asking her questions, or pumping her full of tranquilizer. It was a miracle she had woken up this time. Still she felt groggy, not entirely sure of what she was seeing and hearing.

There came a creak as the door swung open. Lucia shut her eyes, tipping her head to one side as she feigned sleep. Maybe if he thought she was still out he'd lay off the trans.

A hand clamped over her mouth. She shrieked, struggling against the straps as her scream was muffled by leather. Leather? Who in the world wore leather gloves in this dump?

"Shh now lass!" hissed a whisper. "Tis only me..."

Her heart leapt. Was it a strange dream, induced by the drugs? Or was he really there, in the hospital with her? Just how much time had passed, anyway?

"Lucia, ye all right? Do ye know me?" he asked, a shadow of head and shoulders dark against the dim room. A halo of silver hair surrounded the head, moving closer and closer to hers. Still the hand clamped on her mouth.

She nodded slowly, trying hard to shake the last of the sleep off. He removed the hand from her mouth, as she whispered his name. Hands loosened the Velcro straps on the papoose board that bound her tightly. It felt so good to move her wrists.

"MacBeth, Madre de Dios… thank God…" she whispered in the darkness. "How in the... How... did you find me..."

"No time for stories nau, lass," he whispered. "Got to get ye out of this place... now lie still, and I'll put something far more decent on ye…"

Judging from the smoothness of the textures under her fingers, he was fully suited with all accoutriments of weaponry she'd seen when it came time for his own brand of action. The last thing in the world she'd expected was for him to show up like some knight in shining armor to the rescue! She saw him taking something out of a pack, and moving toward her. Overtop her inadequate hospital gown she felt him slipping something form fitted. MacBeth in the darkness was fiddling with clasps, positioning her legs back and forth till she felt every inch of her covered in some new outfit.

She struggled to sit up, feeling the resisting ache in her muscles as she flopped back down. Still the drug surged in her systems, rendering movement difficult. All she could manage was to bonelessly shift to a sitting position and roll to the side as her feet hit the floor. MacBeth's sturdy arms slipped under her knees, helping her to stand shakily.

"This is not going to work, you must leave me... save yoursel!" she moaned, feeling the pins and needles in her legs. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her into his arms.

"Tis noble of ye', but hardly necessary in this case to warrant such foolishness. I've got ye now. Jest relax..."

"Dios, Lennox… what makes you think you can just walk out the front door with me?" she whispered. "Like they're gonna miss me..."

"Quite right. I must still be muddled in my thinking…" He shifted her to the other hospital bed, setting her down. Then wrestled with a figure that he placed in the restraint in place of her. He pulled the sheets up to its neck, then turned to her again, slipping her into his arms once more.

"Any minute now there'll be quarrymen all over this place," he whispered into her ear. "I doubt they'd miss one patient."

"Let me guess love, you forgot the clever disguise and the cardboard box to stuff me in?" she joked.

"What do ye think yer wearing?" he mumbled. Now was not the time for frivolity.

"Sorry," she began to mouth, before she felt MacBeth tense against the wall. Someone was coming to the room!

"Hey, Martin, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be five more minutes! Gotta make sure sleeping beauty is down for the count," Lucia called out, a perfect imitation of the orderly's voice.

"Gotcha. Lemmie know if she behaves or not..." came the answer. Footsteps receded into the background din of stretchers and dinging bells.

"Well done," MacBeth whispered appreciatively in her ears, his eyes wide. "Ye never said ye could do that…"

"It's a gift or a curse… I took an acting class," she shrugged, but MacBeth was sure it was a hidden talent she hadn't before shared with him. Dropping the subject for now, he'd ask her about it later.

"So what do we do now, Lennox?" she asked, although she dreaded the answer, based on what she was quickly learning about the new man in her life.

"Get oot of here as quick as we can," he whispered, gently turning the door handle as he clutched her close. With as much stealth as he could muster he crept down the hall, Lucia dazedly clinging to his neck as she tried to force back the awful swimming feeling that crept up from her stomach. Just what the hell did they give her anyway?

Her skin began to crawl oddly. Was it the special clothing MacBeth had dressed her in… no it wasn't that… because it had been quite comfortable when he'd slid it on her. She rubbed the back of her neck, groaning as she turned over. That weird feeling crept into her mind. She could swear someone was watching her, like in some odd horror movie. The normally sane stable Lucia Domiguez began to tremble spasmodically.

"Let me go you swine!" she choked, squirming in MacBeth's arms.

"Lucia, keep yer voice down..." he gasped, but she flopped to the floor, wrestling her way from his arms. An elbow jabbed him in the stomach, and she rubbed her bruised funny bone. Not a good idea when your adversary is wearing body armor, and you are also.

"What's come over ye lass?" he demanded, seeing the wild look in her dark eyes. "Oh no..."

"I've listened to you for my whole damn life! Leave me alone, Cesar!" Lucia hissed, rushing up to MacBeth and reaching for his neck. He grabbed her wrists, gripping her close as she thrashed and kicked and bit.

"Why are ye angry?" he whispered.

"You think you're so right! That you can boss anyone around whose' not just like you! I've got a life! I will be someone! I'm not a worthless disappointment!"

"Yer' not! Don't dare ever say that in my presence, woman…" MacBeth lowered his voice to her, whispering in her ear. "Yer a strong independent young woman, who has her ain life! Hang onto that Lucia... ye must!"

"Does that give you the right to ruin my life, Cesar?" she snarled, worming out of his grasp as her kick landed against his shin.

"Lucia, listen t' me love, an listen well," he gripped her to him, and gave her a fierce hug. "You fought against him, if anything ye shuild be glad that ye have yer ain mind! Yer not like he wanted! Ye've got t' keep on fighting this... it's not Cesar!"

"No I'm not a failure! I'm not a reject!" she shouted over and over like a mantra. MacBeth held her close as her tantrum increased, more concerned she'd hurt herself as she lashed out against him. The best way was a passive restraining hold that enabled him to grip her without her hurting him in the process.

Orderlies rushed towards them, their white coats flying behind them. "Stop him, he's got a patient... a hostage..."

"Lucia, I need ye!" MacBeth urged her, gripping her close as he reached for his gun. "Please... fight it! If not fer yer self then fer yer friends! And if nowt fer them, than fer my sake, for the one who loves you dearly…"

Lightening sizzled out as he fired first. One orderly went down, the other rushing for the wall phone. "Dammit," MacBeth gritted to himself as he gripped Lucia in one hand, the gun in the other, firing at the wall phone which exploded in a blaze of sparks. Still she struggled against him.

Hearing the commotion, others rushed up behind. MacBeth heard the sounds of many footsteps echoing in the corridors. Security guards gripped odd shaped guns, with tranq darts in them. A hissing whizzed past his black coat. A quick blast to both sides and he lugged Lucia down the hall with him, still kicking and flailing madly.

Another dart whizzed past, from behind. He twisted his body before her instinctively, the dart impacting his armor without event. He whirled, seeing an orderly right at his arm. Gripping the dart out he jabbed it into the assailant arm, watching him go down as he leapt out of the way. Two leaps and MacBeth leapt onto a gurney. His momentum sent the thing rolling down the hall, Lucia under his arm. It struck him weird that he'd forgotten what she was wearing.

With a mighty leap he tumbled to the side, as the gurney crashed into another party, scattering them. Lucia snapped back into his arms, gripping his neck wildly.

"Put me down!" she shrieked, kicking. This was crazy! There had to be some way of snapping her out of this! Desperately he lugged her into a side room, slamming the door as he shoved a table before it. She tore herself away from him.

"I don't have to take this... you..." she gritted.

"Fer the last time I'm no yer ex boyfriend!" he gripped her arms as she flew at him, hands reaching for his neck. He didn't want to hurt her, but she pushed awfully hard in her wild frenzy.

"You... think you know everything? Damn you! So goddamn smug with your stupid experience! You could have any woman you wanted!"

"Ye presented yerself," he whispered, holding her back as she kicked out again. "Twas yer choice. And I gladly accepted yer company... fer ye were right... I was thinking too much... not enjoying every minute alive given me..."

"What?"

"Ye taught me that. To treasure the simple fact of being alive. Losing my sorrow in the now, and not worrying about the endless years that lined up against me. And I have ye t' thank, Lucia Domiguez," he pulled her close in a strong embrace. This action surprised her completely. For a moment she thrashed in his grip, tearing at his jacket in a wild frenzy of resistance.

Out of desperation he gripped her neck, pulling her face close to his. Lips closed upon hers, choking off her anguished cry that was muffled into his throat. Her hands pushed at his chest, resisting, till at last a frightening gasp came through the firm pressure of his lips against her own, drowning the anger in a sudden shivering surge. Something snapped inside her head, chasing away the delusion. Her heart pounded against his chest like a frightened bird caught in a snare. Folding arms behind his neck her mouth opened to his, returning the moist caress.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," she broke away, catching her racing breath. "Whatever came over me? It was HORRIBLE! I wanted to kill you!"

"Nanotechnology," he answered. "One of the blackest arts modern mankind has dreamed up in my long lifetime. They've shot ye up with microscopic machines t' literally reshape yer mind in their image..."

"Dios," she gasped, heart pounding a mile a minute as his hands caressed her scalp and neck. "But... how am I going to stop it from happening again?"

"I'll be right here when it does. These wretches must have a file on the technology that can be easily downloaded…"

"MacBeth I'm so scared… I don't want them to take me over…"

"There's no work of mankind that cannae be overcome… just as there be no spell without some counter enchantment. Trust me… I trust ye… if I can invent a lightening gun that can stop gargoyles and Quarrymen, this is a simple thing… Yer heart's fair pounding t' burst," he muttered, as her hands stroked through his hair. "Mebbe... that's the answer..."

A sudden pounding at the door assured them it wasn't just Lucia's heart that was racing. She started in his embrace, and squeezed his hand hard. He pushed her towards the window, reaching at his hip holster.

"Quick, grab hold of me… and dinna let go!" he cried, scooping her up as he aimed his gun at the window. Lightening shattered the glass, and he shoved the gun in her hand.

"Take the gun…. hold onto it. I'll need ye t' work with me… and trust t' do everything I say… can ye do that for me?"

She nodded, knowing there was no time. He dove out the window, Lucia letting out a thrilled shriek as she gripped him tightly around the neck, and wrapped her legs around his waist. A quickly fired cable from beneath his wrist caught high above, arresting their fall towards the pavement.

"Batman has nothing on you, lover," she joked. He knew she was using humor to whistle in the dark, and didn't blame her at all. While MacBeth swung back and forth on his snare line, feet thumping against each window, she held tightly to him with her legs and one arm, while she held the gun with her other hand. In the reflection she suddenly saw her body swathed in something that was dark like his, and it dawned on her that she was clothed in the same sort of body armor, a female version. Yet it wasn't white like in the mirror visions.

"Jest hang on!" he gritted, glancing in as they went two floors down. Lights flashed all over the building, alarms blaring into their ears. Lucia could see the flicker of flashlights far below, and the sudden sound of Quarryman vans screeching into the lot. MacBeth's coat fluttered in the night wind as his silver hair streaked out with his latest swing towards the left.

* * *

Lexington slipped deeper into the maze of tunnels, Raychell quick behind him. His large eyes read off the signs as they passed by. Nobody in their frenzy seemed to notice the two nocturnal visitors.

"Juvenile Ward… floor three… Nanoneural institute…" he muttered, one eye into the red.

"Nanonerual, that sounds promising," Raychell whispered. Her forehead furrowed in concentration as she kept up the blurring. It was so hard to maintain the distortion that blurred them from reality.

"All right, let's get in," Lex muttered, and slipped a small card into the door. He tapped a code on his computer, and the door clicked open seconds later.

"Cute, I hate to ask, but where did you pick that up?" Raychell asked.

"Got that idea from T-2," he laughed. "Now, let's see if we hit the jackpot. If I can get into the lab computer there, maybe I can shut these chips down…"

Both gargoyles slipped in. Here there were only a few scientists, white-coated researchers leaning over petri dishes and odd machines Raychell thought looked a lot like those in Fox's lab back at Castle Wyvern.

Raychell concentrated, shifting her mental abilities. Suddenly in place of two gargoyles were two white-coated researchers, one male, and one female. Lexington crept quietly in. That was when the alarms started blaring loudly in the hallway. Instantly the researchers snapped their heads up at the noise.

"Stay where you are," came a clipped voice over the loudspeaker in the lab. "Everyone is instructed to remain in their labs till further notice. Security breach is being dealt with."

Raychell winced, well guessing what the security breach was! "Quick," she whispered to Lex as he nonchalantly wandered over to one of the lab terminals. He set down a small palmtop unit, slipping a cable into the Ethernet port on the back of the computer. He began to start typing while Raychell stood in front of him.

"What are you two doing in here?" asked Dr. Bleuth, as he suddenly came into the lab. Two unfamiliar technicians clustered by the lab terminal, busily at work.

"Uh… nothing," Raychell said. "We're uh… from information technologies… there was a computer glitch… and we've been sent to rectify it."

"I wish someone would tell me these things," Dr. Bleuth muttered. "Well, make sure you be quick about it…"

He turned to the main researchers, and muttered something that was hard for Raychell to decipher, save her gargoyle hearing. She edged up to the periphery of the conversation, listening intently as she pretended to be at work over one of the lab counters. There was a large machine in the middle of the lab, chugging away with a series of flashing lights. She glanced at the technician operating it, her notebook open to a page of research notes. Raychell glanced at the words, AD34 prototype phase II neuronet…"

She watched as Lexington typed ever more frantically. He clicked his tongue in irritation. Dr. Bleuth excused himself, slipping out the door quickly. Raychell nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice said, "You there! Mind passing me the printouts?"

"Excuse me?" Raychell asked irritated.

"Yeah. I need to recalibrate…" the technician at her right said, looking up from the research notebook.

"Are the nanites… being made here?" she asked innocently.

"Heck no. Just testing for how well they bind to the neurons. This new batch'll really…"

He shut up when the lab supervisor, a severe woman with thick glasses and hair neatly pulled back shot him a glare. "Should IT persons be taking quite so long?" she asked Raychell, staring over her glasses with a look that reminded Raychell of an unpleasant grammar school experience.

"Excuse me, we have a JOB to do? So could you bugger off and work on something?" Raychell said angrily. "And besides how can we do our job if we can't…"

Just then there came a loud noise from just outside, like the sound of glass breaking. Raychell leapt aside as the lab window exploded inwards, a million shards of glass flying towards everyone. She shrieked, rolling over with her hands held up to protect herself. Lexington was nowhere near the window thank god. Everyone picked himself or herself up, in a panic. For hanging on a rope just before the lab window was a black silhouette, his black coat billowed behind him as he hung suspended on a cable. On his hip was a white gowned curvaceous brunette, toting a smoking pistol crackling with energy. She had been the one who had fired!

"What the hell?" the Lab supervisor coughed.

"Wrong floor," the man muttered in a delicious Scottish accent. The young woman in his other arm giggled and shrugged at the surprised technicians. Both strangers dropped out of site quickly.

"Hello, security?" the lab supervisor barked into the phone. Raychell crouched next to Lex, who was still pounding away like mad on the keyboard.

"What are you trying to do, tell the whole place we're breaking out?" Lucia asked MacBeth as they reached the bottom floor. Already a Quarryman van had pulled up, black hooded figures pouring out of it.

"Change of plans," MacBeth muttered, gripping her close to his hip. Lucia hung around his neck as he swung back and forth, to and fro five times. This gave him enough momentum to swing past the second floor. "When I tell you, fire!" he shouted to her. Lucia aimed, a shot crackling the glass into shards. The explosion showered the Quarrymen in a volley of glass far below.

MacBeth shortened his cable, swinging into the vacant gap well over the gleaming shards of glass. Lucia yelped as she narrowly avoided a nasty scar. They landed safely inside a dim space. Shots crackled down from above as a helicopter whirled close. Bringing the lightening gun up, Lucia squeezed the trigger and hoped for the best as she aimed out the gaping holes in the window.

The result was explosive, and instant. There came cries and a black shape that fell past the streaking strobe lights. MacBeth released her, unholstering another gun to bear. Lucia glanced down at a crumpled figure three floors onto cement. "Oh god… I killed him," she shuddered. A grim iciness washed over her when she gripped the gun in her hand. That guy was probably toast now. Because of her.

Holding his own pistol vertically, MacBeth moved to the door. "Watch the window lass," he barked to her.

"All right whatever you say," Lucia whispered, shaking inside as she set the charge again. This couldn't be happening. Straight from One Flew Over the Cuckoos' Nest to Terminator in thirty minutes! Angry shouts sounded in the hallway. The searchlights of the helicopter shifted again, shots ringing down into the lab. Lucia dove behind a desk, her gun discharging out the window yet again.

"What now?" she called to MacBeth, who had taken refuge behind a metal filing cabinet.

"We try the direct approach," he said. "Straight through these sassinaches…"

"Are you loco?" she breathed. "They'll kill you!"

"Lass, considering where we are, shuild ye be asking such a daft question?" he asked. "And remember… I heal quickly… not t' meantion the armor we're wearing is by far the best one c'n find…"

"You're no longer immortal!" she whispered. "If something happened to you I don't know what I'd do…"

"Shh, it's all right," he whispered as he leaned down and took her face in one hand. "I will not loose ye…"

"Please… don't…" she whispered.

"I'll protect ye…" he said softly, as he kissed her lips. "Now, trust me."

* * *

"This is so boring," Elisa sighed, cruising around the block for the umpteenth time. Beside her, Matt Bluestone sipped his coffee in a mammoth effort to stay alert. It was his third cup in an hour, the other cups lying on the floor of her Fairlane.

Just then her radio crackled with static. A voice shot through, very familiar.

"Elisa? Can you hear me!" cried Lexington's voice over Elisa's radio.

"Lex, what the... where are you now?" Elisa asked, picking up her radio receiver.

"I'm at the hospital now... and we found MacBeth. And guess what he had up his nose?"

"Nanites?" Elisa guessed. There came an odd whirring noise in the background.

"I can't stay on! Quarrymen..."

"What?" Elisa said. "You mean there are Quarrymen where you are now?"

"They just flew in, in a chopper... and there's a half dozen vans pulling up... gotta fly..."

"Lex, wait there, and don't do anything. If you see MacBeth, get him away from there! I don't care what you have to do!"

"I'll try," he said. "Lex out!"

"That's the proof we need!" Matt gasped. "What are Quarrymen doing at a psychiatric hospital."

"Maybe they finally realized how they belonged with the other loonies?" Elisa shrugged.

"Do we roll on this or not?" Matt asked.

"Call for backup..." Elisa grumbled. "I hope to hell that MacBeth doesn't play vigilante."

* * *


	10. Moray's Return

**__**

Part 10 Moray's Return

* * *

"I've got it," Lexington exclaimed. He muffled his excitement as the lab technicians began to stare. Already a damage control team was beginning to swarm the lab.

"We gotta hurry…" Raychell whispered hoarsely, as she renewed her mental illusion. Two lab technicians vanished, replaced by nothing before the terminal. Excited shouts and bangs sounded from out in the hall.

"I've got the access code…" Lexington whispered. "I can shut this nightmare factory down right now…"

"Hurry… before… I can't… hold this illusion anymore," Raychell gasped. Lex's head snapped up.

"Get away from that terminal!" shouted the lab manager. Raychell groaned, slipping to the floor in exhaustion.

Lexington typed in the last codes to his virus, his finger poised above the enter key. Everyone gasped; glancing right at the small impish figure huddled over the computer terminal.

"A gargoyle!" shouted one. "And we have his mate!"

"He is NOT my mate!" Raychell hissed as she began to squirm. But still she was drained from her power and was not up to full strength.

"Oh crap," Lexington muttered. Raychell squirmed in the grasp of five lab technicians, who pinned her to the floor.

"Let her go!" Lex shouted.

"Get away you little beast!" snapped the lab manager. "And we'll think about it!"

"No way!" Lexington gritted, and his finger descended upon the key.

"Let me GO!" Raychell roared, her eyes flaring crimson. She roared as she hurled them off her.

"What the hell?" asked the lab techs. Lexington moved like lightening, leaping into the midst of the mass of white coated technicians. Eyes blazed like twin stars as a tail swept them off their feet.

"Kiss your nanites goodbye!" Lex shouted. Raychell hissed and slashed her tail, knocking over one of the lab technicians as the others struggled to get up. Grabbing one she hurled him into his friends. While she was adverse to violence, she was furious at what they had done to Keith and MacBeth. They dispersed quickly, as Lexington moved towards the broken window. Raychell rushed after him. Two leaps and he was gone, followed by Raychell

Anxiously the lab manager rushed to the terminal. She saw the words, "System corruption" creeping over the network like a red disease. Suddenly all the lab terminals began to flash wildly, to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy.

"Son of a bitch!" she muttered.

* * *

"We know you're in there, Mr. Lennox," came a voice. Through the frosted glass of the door. MacBeth tensed, his ear pressed to it. Lucia stood guard over the open window.

"Come out now, and we'll talk," Dr. Bleuth's muffled voice continued after a tense moment of silence.

Lucia noticed a black silhouetted hood peering over the window ledge. Without another moment's thought she squeezed the trigger on her lightening gun, eyes squeezing shut as she took a deep breath. There came a sizzle, and a scream that raked her eardrums. The sound of another falling body crumpling into pavement followed. Another figure replaced it, slipping down on what appeared to be a rope ladder. Lucia again fired, her shot sizzling into the rope.

The figure aimed, his gun trained on Lucia Domiguez. "Freeze right there, bitch," snarled a woman's voice.

Lucia breathed, lowering the gun. What now? Fear seized her. Just then the woman screamed as a shot crackled into her chest. Lucia turned her head, glancing up at MacBeth standing over her protectively. His gun blazed as he fired towards the security guards.

"Ye tell yer boss we're no surrendering!" he shouted. His other hand rested on Lucia's shoulder, gently stroking it.

"I killed that man," she stammered, feeling very cold. "Two people… I never killed anything in my life before…"

"It's all right lass. We'll get oot of this yet," he pulled her close. Lucia began to convulse, sinking floorwards. Gently MacBeth held her, pulling her towards the door.

"I need ye lass. T' help get oot. Can I count on ye?"

"Yes…" she stammered, glancing up at him. She let him walk her to the main door, her hand still clenching the lightening gun. Reaching into his trenchcoat, he pulled out a pair of goggles, and slid them up on his head. At their appearance, Lucia knew what he was going to do, especially when he handed her a second pair.

MacBeth looked to Lucia, nodding grimly. "On the count of three…" he whispered, black gloved hand poised around the door handle of the lab. She slid her goggles down, as he did, her heart pounding.

"All right, let's do it," she snapped, gun at the ready. The door clicked, and the frantic voices in the hall reached fevered pitch.

"Mr. MacDuff, there is no escape. If you don't relinquish your hostage, we'll be forced to resort to further violence. This serves no purpose!" Dr. Bleuth pleaded.

"Now!" MacBeth snapped, jerking the door open. She saw him throw something down, and still squeezed shut her eyes when she heard the explosion of a smoke cartridge. His gun blazed, ripping past a line of Quarrymen, which had clustered outside their door. Lucia fired instinctively, blue lightening raking across black hooded shapes. Cries and shouts echoed in her ears, a swimming feeling erupting in the pit of her stomach. MacBeth gripped her hand in his, pulling her behind him.

"Quick lass! Run!" he urged. Lucia Domiguez reset the charge quickly as he'd shown her, firing rapidly behind them as a quarryman's bullet sizzled past her.

"Stop right there!" snarled one hooded figure, his hammer cocked and blazing. MacBeth lashed out in a kick, divesting him of the hammer, and his mask. The man crumpled. Lucia shoved another aside, cracking her lightening gun butt into his jaw. Each move was instinctive, fluid as water, and needed no second thought. Dios, what was she becoming, she wondered. The armor fit like a second skin, affording her the same ease of movement as him.

Dr. Bleuth looked up from the frenzy, rubbing his mouth as he stumbled after his erstwhile patients. "Mr. MacDuff! Stop this insanity! If not for yourself, for the sake of the girl!"

MacBeth pulled Lucia around the corner, her bare feet stumbling to keep up with him. To their right, black hooded figures cocked their hammer. Behind them white smocked orderlies held up tranquilizer dart guns. He pushed Lucia behind him, gun covering either group as his shots blazed wildly. They backed into a hallway, only to reach a dead end. MacBeth swung around, gun raised to fire.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came an English accented voice. MacBeth stopped, to see a dozen guns trained right on him and Lucia. She clenched his hand, fingers digging into his leather glove.

"Castaway!" Lucia snapped, hearing the voice she hated. Around the corner stalked a tall black figure, a triple scar superimposed upon his quarryman symbol. Eyes gleamed from the slits in the hood that hid his face. He cocked the rod of his hammer, energy whirling into life. Slowly he advanced upon the duo. Lucia was glad for the armor, but guessed it wouldn't protect her from something as nasty as what she'd heard that hammer could do in her PIT rally meetings.

"Have we met… wait…. Ah, Miss Domiguez is it?" he sneered, and she could see the shock on his face. "So nice to see you again… although what ARE we wearing? Rather unfashionable for a lady… isn't it? Someone's been very worried about you…"

"Stay back, ye sasinach," MacBeth snarled, stepping between Lucia and the Quarryman leader.

"I would be advised to drop your weapon if I were you," Castaway said calmly, voice dropping low. "If not for you, for the young lady's sake…"

"I'd sooner trust a snake," MacBeth snapped, his gun still covering Castaway.

"Don't be stupid. There's no way you can escape, Mr. MacDuff. You led us on a merry chase, enough. But it's time for this fiasco to end…"

"Where did you learn those lines, Villains hokey speeches 101?" Lucia couldn't resist quipping.

"Ah, defiant to the last, are we?" Castaway chuckled. "Really, girl, do you think that HE can protect you with his fancy equipment? I see you're wearing HIS armor, and carrying his weaponry. Most unfortunate. You don't seem to understand that you are consorting with a traitor…"

"I'm not the traitor, you are," she whispered.

"Tis not necessary t' waste yer breath on the likes o' him," MacBeth whispered to her.

"So… you really think that this young charge is some sort of… disciple? Is THAT your plan, McDuff, training gargoyle sympathizers to take up arms against us? Really… you ARE corrupting the youth just as we thought! How many more of there are you?"

"Enough to stop you," Lucia said before MacBeth could stop her..

"My my, we are bold. I t hink you need to see that there aren't as many friends as you might claim, young lady. One of them's right here. Why don't you come out…"

"Lucia, it's been a long time…" said a voice that made her blood run cold. "At last we can be together…"

"Oh god no," she gasped. "Cesar… it can't be…"

"Yes, it is…" said Cesar Ramierez, as he walked out in an outfit similar to Castaway's.

"Meet my new second in command," Castaway said with a laugh. "Someone you are very well acquainted with, Aren't you, Miss Dominguez."

"You almost broke my jaw, you son of a bitch," Cesar gestured to MacBeth. "But you won't get away with it. And you won't get away with HER… goddamit it what IS she wearing? You're turning her against me, is that it, Traitor?"

MacBeth's eyes narrowed, his grasp on Lucia behind him tightening. She shivered and held him tightly, tears running down her face. "Oh god, please leave us alone, Cesar… it's over…"

"You are mine, forever," he said. "Not even HE can take you away from me. And Castaway and I will have our revenge…"

"You see, he's the perfect addition to the Quarrymen. Although we are not bound by blood, I think of him as my own son…" said Castaway. "As you have seen fit to embroil this girl in a pointless feud, so I've done the same. The Hunt goes on…"

"So what will ye do now that ye've caught yer quarry," MacBeth asked. His gray eyes bored holes in Castaway's hood. Lucia couldn't help but be impressed at MacBeth's resolve.

"Why, retribution of course," Castaway said. "For a naughty little girl… who ran away from her fiancée…"

"What has this young woman done t' ye," MacBeth asked. "Leave her oot of it! If it's me ye want…"

"She belongs to my ally here," said Castaway. "And we take care of our own. Don't we, Ramierez?"

"That is true. Lucia would never leave me without learning the price. But I will forgive her, and then she will be with me, as she always should have been…"

"You bastard I'll never…" Lucia gasped.

"Shh, easy now, he's not worth it," MacBeth whispered to her.

"My my, let's not get melodramatic. I'll give you a choice. Surrender now, and we'll overlook this incident. I'll let you live. You have considerable talents, Mr. MacDuff. I would hate to destroy such a promising warrior. And I might even be easy on the girl too…"

"Oh yeah right, like hell you will," Lucia shot back. "I'll DIE before I go back with you, Cesar!"

"Oh really?" Castaway laughed. He held up a strange device, slowly pressing a key. Lucia Domiguez choked, hands pressed to her head as she crumpled floorwards.

"What are ye doing t' her!" MacBeth shouted, leaning over her. "Stop it now!"

"A little reeducation is in order. She has been a very naughty girl, attacking her poor defenseless friend, refusing help given generously… and playing games to learn to sympathize with gargoyle lovers by taking your weapons, and your training… when she should be with us…"

"She must learn the price of disobedience," Cesar said. "She rejected me…"

"Yer help?" MacBeth growled. "I'd rather die a free man then live one minute in your slavery!"

"Oh god! LENNOX!" Lucia screamed, shuddering as pain ripped into her brain. Dr. Bleuth slowly moved beside Castaway, drawing in his breath sharply.

"Leave her alone!" MacBeth snarled, gripping her as she writhed in his gasp.

"Stop this!" Cesar snapped. "I don't want her dead! What are you doing?"

"Back away from her… now," Castaway urged, a sneer in his voice. MacBeth did as he was told; reluctantly leaving Lucia to lay crumpled on the floor.

"There's no need to kill them," Dr. Bleuth huffed as he rushed up. "Mr. Ramierez is right. That girl is only a teenager…"

"That girl is expendable, she's allyed herself with Moray, let her die as one of HIS clan," Castaway snarled. He turned again to Lucia, flipping the switch again.

"No," said Cesar. "I won't have it… she's mine. You said you could cure her… I swear to God if you hurt her I'll kill you."

"My, aren't we hasty. If you're going to carry on after me you'll have to learn that women can be found easily. Is she so important to you that you'd…"

"Yes," said Cesar. "I love her. And if she is with me, HE will suffer."

"I see. Very wise. Now, will you listen to a piece of advice, young lady? This man has been a bad influence on you… filling your head with all sorts of nonsense about clan feuds, and Hunters… I suggest you move away from him…"

Lucia choked, glancing up at MacBeth with wild eyes. She pushed away his grasp, backing towards Cesar.

"Lucia, no," MacBeth mouthed, seeing the glazed look on her face.

"That's a girl. Come towards me… easy now…"

Lucia moved, as if mechanical motors ruled her motion. MacBeth looked in horror as she smiled at Cesar. "Thank you…" she whispered, reaching out towards him.

"My love," Cesar said as he held out his arms. "I have waited ages for this… it will be all right…"

"Cesar…" she whispered.

"Now we can be together, as we should," he said, pulling her close. She raised her lips up and received the kiss he gave her.

"Stop this at once," MacBeth snarled. "She's not in her right mind… this is madness!"

"Ah, now we are being reasonable," Castaway laughed. "A good little girl gets her reward."

"Lucia, you look tired. I want you to do something for me. Go to your room… it's been a long night, and you need rest… you'd better go and take off that armor first…" Cesar said softly. Castaway nodded.

"I need rest," Lucia repeated. MacBeth couldn't believe this was happening. A foolish grin came over her face as she turned towards MacBeth. Her nose wrinkled discernibly at his aghast stare.

"But there is something she has to do first." Castaway grinned beneath his hood. "Right Ramierez?"

"Yes, that's right, I almost forgot," said Cesar. Dr. Bleuth wiped his forehead in relief. Lucia slowly turned, reaching for something she'd put at her hip, that they'd failed to take into account. Blue lightening crackled through the air, slamming into Dr. Bleuth, Cesar Ramierez, Jon Castaway and every quarryman within a twenty-foot arc of her.

"Run!" Lucia shouted, throwing herself at MacBeth. He tumbled, griping his gun to bear seconds later.

A hand gripped him, clamping down. "So much for your little strategy," came the English accented voice. He glanced into the face of their leader, a man with triple scratches superimposed on his hammer symbol.

"Get them! Don't let them escape alive! Moray will NOT win this battle! They were gargoyles lovers then, and they are now!" Castaway shouted. Quarrymen raced after the two, hammers crackling like Thor's mallet.

"Lucia!" shouted Cesar. "Damn you!"

* * *

"Sonofbitch," Elisa muttered as they pulled up to the Sanitarium. Helicopters whirred over the place, sweeping it with their searchlights. Broken windows gaped onto the parking lot, glittering with shattered glass. Quarrymen raced to and fro, from their vans in a frantic panic.

She glimpsed the shape of Lexington, passing over the moon. Several other shapes circled about; their membranous wings silently conveying them in ever climbing arcs.

"Goliath, what are you doing here?" she asked herself.

"Elisa!" came his voice over the intercom. "Lexington called us… we cannot hold them for long…"

"Stay put, I'm calling for backup," Elisa said. She glanced towards the front entrance, pulling the Fairlane to bear as she slammed the breaks.

"Get ready to move Matt…" she whispered.

"Look, right there!" Matt shouted, pointing to the sliding glass doors. Two figures, a man in a long black coat tugging a woman beside him in gleaming black armor similar to his, rushed out into the midst of quarrymen.

"That's Lucia Domiguez!" Elisa suddenly realized. "She was there all along! Jalapena! Move Matt, move!"

Elisa and Matt tumbled out, their guns blazing to cover the retreating MacBeth and Lucia. Shots crackled into a nearby knot of hooded figures, hiding behind a van. MacBeth fired, blue lightening arcing towards the van in a sizzling stroke. A blaze of sparks consumed the van, the stench of burning steel and melting plastic scattering the Quarrymen about the asphalt lot. Lucia sprayed the area to the left with her own lightening gun, her eyes dark with anger. Elisa shook her head in disbelief at the sight of her boss's niece using weapons of MacBeth's design.

Overhead, Goliath's party swooped and soared around the helicopters. Broadway leapt into the cockpit, claws tearing the door away seconds before. Angela was at his back, plucking away the pilot. Brooklyn settled upon the snipers aiming from the helicopter's belly.

Goliath and Hudson descended upon the second chopper, eyes blazing. Hudson's sword landed neatly into the tail blades. Slowly the chopper began to rotate out of stability. It sank towards the asphalt; Goliath and Hudson jumping clear.

MacBeth and Lucia reached the safety of Elisa's Fairlaine. Both were panting up a storm. Lucia held her chest, sinking towards the pavement as she crouched near Elisa.

"What took you guys so long?" she asked casually.

* * *

"You took one hell of a risk," Elisa sighed, as she confronted MacBeth. Already Chavez and reinforcements had shown up, ushering a knot of Quarrymen into the police wagon. Nearby, Dr. Bleuth gave his testimony to Monroe and Chavez.

"This man used terrorism to force us to misuse the chip," Bleuth nodded.

"You lying scum…" snarled Castaway, as they hauled him off. Caesar was nowhere to be found, as were most of the other quarrymen.

"Save it for the judge," Chavez snapped, waving the policemen flanking their prisoner on. In another section of the parking lot, Elisa and Matt stood with an exhausted Lucia and MacBeth.

"There are some times that a man must take justice into his own hands..."

"That's no excuse, mister!" Elisa snapped back. "Captain Chavez is going to hand my ass to me when she finds out I let you get away with this! And you're dragging HER into it!"

"You almost sound like ya wanted me to stay in the nuthouse," Lucia Domiguez grinned mischievously at his side. They made a very odd couple indeed, Lucia close at the powerful warrior's side. His long black coat billowed in the evening air.

"Keep this up and she might take ye up on it," he warned her.

"Good luck for you that vigilante thing paid off," Elisa shoved her hands in her pockets. "Or else I wouldn't think twice about hauling you in with the rest of them. What were you thinking?"

"Do ye really have t' ask?" MacBeth shook his head.

"Aw come on, he did save my life," Lucia glanced up at him. A powerful hand rested on her shoulder.

"You could be charged for kidnapping, not to mention providing illegal arms to a minor without a license!" Elisa folded her arms across the front of her red leather jacket.

"I have my reasons, Detective. As ye have yuirs. And a gentleman does not leave a lady in peril when he can raise a hand to help. Has that changed so much in the last thousand years?"

"I've got a license," Lucia said quickly.

"Dammit, you should know better! I should be committed for letting you two walk away from this," Elisa muttered. "But since you helped us solve this case I'll look the other way..."

"Thanks Elisa," Lucia laughed. "And maybe we can help you out the next time the Q-men try to..."

"Don't make a habit of it okay?" Elisa sighed. "I've got enough to try and explain to Captain Chavez already, without telling her that you've become a gun toting vigilante!"

"I canna promise that, Detective," MacBeth shook his head.

"Jalapeno," Elisa muttered. "Why is it I have such weird friends?"

"Elisa, we've got a problem," Matt Bluestone suddenly interrupted.

"Speaking of weird," Lucia began, before hiding her grin behind her hand. She felt a poke in the ribs from MacBeth.

"Okay what now?" Elisa asked, turning to him.

"Castaway escaped. We thought we'd spotted him in one of the intensive case wards but he just well... vanished into thin air."

"Great, that's all we need..."

"As long as he's oot there, ye'll need all the help ye can get protecting your friends..."

"All right all right," Elisa held up her hands. "You win. Matt, I guess we have enough to book the shrinks anyway with fraud and conspiracy to commit murder. But it's not gonna get Castaway in jail where he belongs!"

"Bill Yale thinks that his mother… Margot was in on this thing too," Lucia said.

"Won't have an easy time proving that either," Elisa said. "So far she's kept her nose clean, damn her."

"Maybe she slipped up this time?" Matt Bluestone suggested. "I've got a feeling..."

"As do I," MacBeth nodded. He had a new respect for Elisa's partner, as Matt had for him. Both men's eyes met as silence passed between them.

"But there's one thing… Castaway's new partner…" she said softly.

"I ken. He must have gotten away…"

"Excuse me?" asked Elisa.

"Cesar Ramierez," Lucia said coldly. "He was with Castaway. He tried to kill me. I took this armor and weaponry to defend myself. So he'll never abuse anyone else again…"

"Oh god," Elisa closed her eyes. "Matt… Morgan…"

"Sorry, no sign of anyone by that name in the van," said Bluestone with a sigh.

"Don't worry, we'll get him," said Elisa. "That's a promise."

"I'll hold ye to it then," said MacBeth, placing a hand on her hip as he drew her to his side.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Elisa said. "You'll have to stop breaking laws though…"

"I protect what is mine," MacBeth said meaningfully as he looked at Lucia.

"So, you two ARE involved?" Elisa said quietly. "In more ways than showing her how to use your damn toys…"

MacBeth looked at her disapproving look, and said, "My intentions are honorable. Ye may inform yer captain Chavez that I have nothing but gentlemanly and proper plans regarding her niece…"

"Dammit, she's only 20… she's too young!" said Elisa. "You can't be dragging her into your little war with Castaway! She's got NO business doing this…"

"And what is your point, with all due respect Detective?" asked Lucia. "I am old enough to make my own decisions."

"You'd better make DAMN sure she doesn't get mixed up in your private feuds and get killed because of it…" Elisa said quickly.

"I want to be with him, it will be all right," said Lucia. "I promise."

"If she's cut down because of you…" Elisa threatened.

" I will protect her wi' ma life," MacBeth said. "Ye have my word… and ye know what weight it carries."

"You'd better," Elisa said.

Matt saw Elisa's pained look as they watched the couple together. "Hate to interrupt guys, but I think you'd better split while the splitting's good. Here comes Captain Chavez..."

"Oh great," Elisa muttered. "You won't get away with not speaking to your aunt…"

"I can't face her," she sighed. "Look Elisa, do I get sent back or something? I didn't really do anything except let myself get rescued., and fought back in self defense. If you look up in my file you'll see that I have all the permits to use this stuff! Is that a crime, defending myself?"

"No, I don't think so," Matt grinned at Elisa. "And the computer DOES show that there were some licenses issued in her name for the same weaponry he has… not to mention an active membership in the NRA..."

"He is my hero," Lucia laughed as she seized his bearded face and planted a smacking kiss right on MacBeth for the entire world to see. He promptly blushed and coughed, straightening up in her embrace. To her delight he didn't push away, but merely distanced himself from her a bit. Still he kept his arms around her waist.

"You're always so damn melodramatic," Elisa shook her head.

"She's got you there," Matt gestured with his number two pencil. "You can't argue with that. If he did rescue her it's hardly kidnapping..."

"Okay you win!" Elisa threw up her hands. As she turned she noticed MacBeth and Lucia had vanished into the mist and smoke of morning. Chavez's voice of query came quickly and Elisa was very sure she didn't want to face her captain's questions about her niece's whereabouts.

"Wanna get coffee?" Matt asked. "Looks like you could use it partner."

"Sure... it'll go great with the reports we're gonna have to fill out..." she mumbled as he dragged her away from Captain Chavez.

* * *

Lucia felt the early morning chill wafting against her face as MacBeth led her away. Strange how a simple gas cartridge could mask their escape. Her hand was clutched in his gloved one, and she felt the substantial weight of the armor at last that clothed her. Soberly she glanced back over her shoulder, and felt as if she was leaving something behind. A pattern had been set in motion by using his weapons, and entering his protection. Now she was tied to Moray, in a centuries long feud against Canmore, and a knot tightened in her throat at this.

They approached the space where his black Jaguar was parked. MacBeth aimed his remote and they entered the doors that automatically unlocked. "I'm surprised you didn't have the hovercraft warmed up," she joked sadly.

"Tis in the shop, after the last run in, as ye know," he said matter of factly. She seemed so much older as she slid into the passenger seat of the car, and they both shut the doors. Lucia felt her heart slowly pulsing as she inhaled deep breaths, and MacBeth gunned the car out of the lot. Glancing through the window she saw flickering lights painting red strobes on the side of the large box of glass and concrete.

MacBeth glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he drove along back roads that were less known. A shred of guilt crossed his mind, and he realized that hundreds of years ago, the very notion of women fighting alongside men was considered daft. Or was it? In more ancient tribes, the women took up arms. In his times running from pirates as a privateer shipping indentured servants and even earlier, he saw some had taken the guise of male dress to live lives that were far more fascinating than the traditional roles of women.

Not that he was opposed to women fighting by any means. Fleance had been a well-trained woman, albeit a thug, and hardly a lady. Then there were the lessons where he had trained Marianne in the use of the sword. Till she had left to go to England with her lover. Now this young woman had joined the ranks of a thin line that stretched to the present.

"Ye fought well, lass," MacBeth said softly as he squeezed her hand.

"Did I?" she asked, choking. Lucia glanced at him, and then wiped at her eyes, turning away. Everything she'd held back bubbled up, and she started to sniffle, then release sobs that made her shake.

"I cuildna have done better myself, considering the circumstances, but…" he said, and then stopped.

"I feel… numb…" she sobbed. "I can't… I can't…"

"I'd expect ye would," he said as he pulled the car over for a moment, and stopped the engine. Reaching over the seat, he took her in his arms, and Lucia whimpered, shaking against him.

"I've never killed anyone before," she said after ten minutes of him rocking and shushing her. "But you know what's worse… they deserved it…"

"I know," MacBeth said softly, patting her back. "It doesnae make it better. And if ye feel regret, tis showing ye have a heart. I never meant ye t' have to face this… and I regret that I dragged ye into this…"

"I wanted to be with you, at your side," she choked. "And dammit, I'll fight if I must. Don't think that I won't. As far as he's concerned, I'm with Moray, right?"

"Strange he should openly speak of such things," MacBeth muttered, stroking her hair as he glanced at her.

"I've made my choice, and Cesar made his long ago. But at least I can fight back… I only wish…"

"Let's go home lass," MacBeth said as he pressed a finger over her lips.

* * *

"Any luck?" Fox asked Lexington as they pounded keys in cyberspace.

"Almost all the nanites have been ejected," Lexington nodded.

"Some technology. If only I had marketed this patent with the batch Cyberbiotics developed," Fox muttered, glancing over a set of schematics. "But it's not a total loss…"

"What do you mean?" Lexington asked her.

"David just bought the rights to the Crystal Springs sanitarium, and the nanotechnology," said Fox. "That nanotechnology is going to corner the market on surgical devices… and David and I will make a cool million alone in the revenues…"

"You mean you're going to use that, after all the trouble it's caused?" Lexington asked.

"Come on, you can understand how powerful it is!" Fox laughed. "And this time it won't be used to scramble people's brains…"

"I don't like it…"

"Plus the Sanitarium itself is going to continue its research into treating mental ailments. With alternative therapies," Fox said. "Nanite free. The amount of patients each year that turn to alternative massages, herbal remedies and meditation will turn that place into a goldmine…"

"Only you and Xanatos could see that," Lex grumbled.

"David never throws anything away," Fox laughed.

"I hope for your sake it pays off, and nobody else gets hurt," Lexington muttered under his breath.

* * *

Slowly she shook off sleep. Lucia Domiguez blinked against the assault of morning sunbeams spilling across the vast expanse of bed. It must have been king sized. Lifting her arm she blocked the offending rays, and stretched from toes to fingertips. Overhead, the canopy of the grand box bed obscured her view of the ceiling. Unused brocade curtains were tied back with crimson rope. She gasped as she felt a strong hand slipping around her hip beneath the warm sheets. It cupped around her waist, tracing between her warm body and the soft resilient mattress to pull her close.

"Mmn, good morning," she muttered, turning over to face its owner. On the pillow next to hers rested a silver cloud of hair. Her arm landed alongside his head, her other hand reaching out to caress the silver softness upon his cheeks. For a moment her eyes dropped to the ornate lace beneath her cheek, the soft embroidery marking out the symbol of Moray there. How old were these bed sheets anyway, she wondered. They felt crisp and cool around her shapely body.

"I was just thinking," she said, thoughtful look in her brown eyes.

"Yes?" he asked.

"What made them put you in a rubber room?" she asked, tracing a finger over his well-muscled chest.

He laughed deeply. "I simply told them the truth. That committed me for certain."

"You didn't," she began to giggle, and put her hand before her mouth as her whole body erupted into a shaking mass. For five minutes they shared the mirth, till she had to take a deep breath to calm down.

"Oh yeah, they probably thought you were crazy when you admitted you were a Shakespearean character..."

"I thank ye not to mention that damnable play..." he pretended to be stern. "Considering yer thespian friends regard it as bad luck to mention its name?"

"Oh yeah," she laughed. "We call it the Scottish play."

"More like the Scottish travesty," MacBeth put in.

"Hey watch it! Some of my best friends are in a production of it now..." She straightened up in bed, as if to get up. A powerful hand clasped gently around her wrist, restraining her. Strange how such a gentle grip could literally crush a man's bones to dust.

"Yer no thinking of leaving so soon are ye?" resonated that voice she loved so well. Steely blue eyes blinked towards hers. They had not the hardness of a warrior now, but the softness of affection.

"No way," she laughed. "This is one place I don't want to check out of anytime soon... considering that you asked me so nicely to stay…"

"Good," he laughed, slipping well-muscled legs around hers. She laughed as well, rolling herself under his solid muscled frame as her own body melded to his. Height did not matter when two people were horizontal, at least Lucia thought for the most part. As it was he towered a full head and shoulders over her. Gentle soft kisses pressed to her cheeks, and nose. Eagerly she wrapped arms about his neck, pressing her own lips firmly to his. Working her tongue into his mouth she parted breath moist lips and shared a deep kiss. Sometimes it didn't hurt to speed things along, she reflected internally. Shivers shot up her spine as she felt his resulting hum of delight between their merged mouths. He may be a thousand years old, but there were some things that improved in the twentieth century.

"Mmmm!" she purred as they withdrew for breath. "Sweet!"

"I must agree," he laughed.

"There's just one thing that's been bothering me, other than what I'm going to tell my aunt…" Lucia Dominguez sighed as she snuggled into his embrace.

"That being," he fingered the lock of hair just above her forehead.

"Cesar," she said as she sighed.

"I'll never let him lay a hand on ye again," MacBeth said darkly. "Ye have my word on that."

"He used those those nanites. He turned me inside out… Dios I hate him!"

"He won't be able to use them again. And he won't get past me to ever bother you," MacBeth said sharply. "I've taught ye how t' defend yerself, and he has seen that you'll not let him hurt you again… and get away with it."

"I know Lex and Raychell… somehow hacked in and shut them down. But they never took them outta any of us guinea pigs. I still have that thing in my brain. What if those Q-men got control of us… of me again?"

"Little worry of that," MacBeth stroked her cheek. "Fer the adrenaline coursing through yer system in the last two days is more than enau t' block it. "

"So, are you like saying we should do more of this?" she asked as he gripped her hips, and rolled over to position her so she was laying astride him. As he shifted, she felt their bodies merging again and let out a moan of anticipation.

"It would be prudent to make certain," he look up at her with a twinkling in his eyes. One hand slipped around her breast, gently caressing it. Strong fingers danced their way down to her belly. The resulting jolts of pleasure shot through her like a cold chilling winter's wind. Refreshing and bracing as each stroke of his tongue glided over her navel.

"Madre de Dios..." she breathed through clenched teeth as his hands passed their way over her form. Slipping up and down her body in a movement that sent all control from her body. It was like feeling the tremors of an oncoming quake. Sometimes you had to dive under the table and grit your teeth, or else hang on and hope something didn't fall on your head when you felt the awesome vibrations of a planet's crustal slip. She couldn't help but squawk with surprise and delight as he gently coaxed her thighs apart with well-practiced movements. Her own hands knew tricks of their own as they responded to that hidden urge. Those caramel legs clasped as he entered in one decisive thrust eliciting a whoop of surprise from her. Well practiced she angled to meet him halfway as she had done thus before.

A sincere feeling shot through her at his gentle thrusts. As if there was a solemnity and sincerity that sent a choking sensation into her throat. The intensity swept over her as a wave, leaving her gasping and breathless in its wake. Firmly his mouth covered her with a warm gentle kiss that seemed an odd contrast to his ever-increasing vigorousness. Till she felt the crescendo climax and her loud cry was muffled at its source. It took forever, an eternity as she soared on the massive orgasm before she returned to a normal threshold of sensation again.

When the thundering fireworks display had ended, she found herself resting against him, as she was wont to do. Purring in the back of her throat as he continued to hold her close. An odd new undercurrent unsettled her, frightening and yet extremely exciting about this last coupling. All they could do was glance at each other in a sort of silent understanding, lost in the overall pleasure of physical closeness. The depth of experience in those blue eyes didn't unsettle her, merely served to fascinate her as to what the heck he'd seen all those centuries.

"I'd forgotten to mention… Mrs. Xanatos has been working on a way fer the nanites t' disengage from all their hosts. So in a matter of hours… ye'll have nowt t' worry…"

"Ugh, so I'll be passing them?" she asked.

"T' put it inelegantly, yes," he chuckled.

"Dios... I feel like I'm in some bizarre X-Files," Lucia sighed against him.

"Ye are a bit of a mystery yerself lass," he joked. "As in how ye managed t' imitate that man's voice…"

"A woman has to have some secrets…" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Speaking of mysteries, there is an auld Scottish custom I had fergotten t' share wi ye…" he laughed mischievously.

"Ohh, I can hardly wait… But there's one other little thing…" she whispered to him.

"Are you still worrying about Cesar?" MacBeth said softly, leaning on his elbow as he hovered over her. One leg pinned hers under it beneath the covers.

"Yes," she said softly. "Castaway… he said Cesar was like his own son. And from what you've told me about the Hunters… saying 'there will always be a Hunter'…"

"Aye," MacBeth shivered as he glanced at her, and she glanced up at him. "One way or another it passes from father t' son. Tis the first time I've known that it not be a blood tie… but considering that he's had no biological child… tis not uncommon. And ye, what ye said about allying yerself wi' Moray…"

"I mean it. I'm with you… you gave me THIS didn't you?" she said, holding up the crest that hung around her neck. "If Canmore can last for 10 centuries and bring hatred and fear, why can't Moray mean hope and love? You ruled a kingdom with the alliance of gargoyles for 40 years… that means something… and maybe people now should remember that part of history…"

"Few would remember," MacBeth said softly as he looked at her with a deep respect. Every day he saw more of his Gruoch in her. The lady who was able to command as well as be at his side. A woman who had commanded in his absence, and tutored her son when he was gone to war in the ways of being a King. There was a hint of truth to Shakespeare's play, for his Lady did have a commanding presence, albeit far more quiet and composed than the shrewish Lady of the Scottish Play.

"Maybe I'm just being silly," she blushed.

"Not at all. Perhaps we shuild do something about making this arrangement more permanent then," said MacBeth.

"What do you mean…" she asked as he reached under his pillow and pulled out a box. She gasped.

"I had been meaning to ask ye something. I am an honorable man, and I am cross wi my self fer not asking sooner…"

"You want to… oh god…" she said as her voice cracked with emotion, and she laughed despite herself.

"Lucia Dominguez, I have come to love ye as much as any man loved a woman. Will ye do me the honor of consenting t' be my wife?"

She gasped as he opened the box, and she saw the antique ring glistening there. Wiping away tears she looked at him, and her hands shook. There was a deep silence, as he awaited her answer. "I cannot promise there won't be danger, and the possibility that we'd be ridiculed for our difference in age, but I shall protect ye, and take care of ye as long as ye live…"

"God, I don't know what to say… do you know what this means?" she giggled, and couldn't help it. "That damn play… the role I was gonna be… this is like so ironic!"

"I'd understand if ye'd say no," MacBeth said softly.

"I have never loved anyone like you, and I don't want you to be alone anymore. I know I'll grow old, while you stay the same age, but I want to be with you as long as I can…" she said softly.

"I'll always love ye, no mistake," he said.

"Then yes, I'll marry you, and be your Lady MacBeth," she said as she hugged him. He embraced her back, and then held her at arm's length. Her finger shook as he removed the ring and slid it on her finger. Caesar might still be out there, but she knew that he'd never have her now.

* * *

The End? Or just the Beginning?


End file.
